


cast all, yea, this white linen hence

by Elywyngirlie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Definitely thinking about Last of the Mohicans, Enemies to Misunderstood to Lovers, Escape Plans, F/M, Forbidden Lovers, Forest Fires, Horses, Lookalikes, Mistaken identities, Secrets, Spies, political manipulation, sword fights, vague medieval setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:09:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26941933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elywyngirlie/pseuds/Elywyngirlie
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple trip.Sergeant Rey Niima was supposed to escort the Prince to Mandalore so that he could fulfill his arranged marriage contract and Mandalore and Alderaan could join forces to finally defeat the First Order.Too late, Rey learns she is a pawn in a much larger game.
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 41
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bluewonderlust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewonderlust/gifts).



> To my darling bluewonderlust, a sweet bright light in this dark world. A gift to this world. I hope you enjoy this. 
> 
> No beta', we ride like men. 
> 
> Title from John Donne's To His Mistress Going to Bed 
> 
> "Then since that I may know;  
> As liberally, as to a Midwife, shew  
> Thy self: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,  
> There is no penance due to innocence.  
>  To teach thee, I am naked first; "
> 
> This work is complete and I will be uploading chapters about a day or two apart.

It was to be a simple journey, Poe said. A quick five day trek across Alderaan and into Mandalore. A secret, undercover mission that left her brimming with pride, her cheeks suffused with red. 

She was a nobody. A nothing. Captured by the Consort while trying to pick his pocket and placed into camp and into small missions. Now a mere sergeant but trusted and admired. Selected for a secret mission for the Queen and her Consort. It was truly an honor and Rey was surprised that she managed not to bungle her thanks. 

“Be ready to depart at eleven bells,” Poe ordered as he turned to the other two members of the crew. Finn and Rose were snuggled together, lips brushing in a way that had Poe launching into another lecture on decorum and how decorated officers needed to behave better than enlisted ones. It was all too familiar and Rose rolled her eyes before easily reminding Poe of how he had embarrassed himself two nights ago at the cantina. When Akasha had thrown her drink in his face and then slashed him with a dagger. 

“We’ll be posed as couples moving into Mandalore. It should make it easier for us to get by. Dress simply. Pack your uniforms for when we arrive but for now, only your simplest clothing. We’re farmers. We’re poor. I have an opportunity in Mandalore and we are going to try our luck.”

“As couples? Is Rey going as yours…” Finn’s mouth gaped and Rey shook her head. It wasn’t a secret that she and Poe quarreled frequently. 

“All couples fight don’t they?” Poe shot back and Rey tucked her amused smile away. After a few more minutes of discussion, the meeting broke up and she headed to her room to pack. 

Eleven bells meant darkness. It meant moving silently in single file up to the Palace. Into a courtyard squirrelled away, shadowed and silent. She wore her simplest clothes--her tan leggings, her sagging dusty boots, her sandy wraps. Her hair back in their simple three buns that signaled that she was from the Dunes of Jakku. She refused to leave behind her staff, arguing that it made an effective walking stick. Rose and Finn were clothed in dark browns and mottled greens, Rose’s olive dress billowing around black leggings. 

A cart horse was waiting for them with a caravan on the back. Something an Ewok might use as they sold their wares across the countries. Large enough for two beds with windows tightly clasped shut. She tried not to wonder about their mission. 

A lantern flashed and the Consort came downstairs, guiding a large figure in black, obviously male, face hidden, a dark helmet obscuring his features. His shoulders were broad, a black cloak slung over one shoulder. Despite his bulk he leapt gracefully into the caravan, its groaning loud in the dark. The horse knickered and flicked his ears and Poe murmured soothing words.

“Rey,” the Consort greeted, his leathered face easy. “I am pleased you agreed to do this. I trust no other with his safety.” Rey blushed and tried not to stammer. Praise nettled her, it did not glide off of her; it clung to her like a burr to a tack. Sharp, hot, shameful. She licked her lips and gave a tremulous smile. 

“Take care of my son,” he whispered. “He must arrive within five days. With Mandalore’s support, we can easily keep the First Order back.” Rey swallowed. The rumors of Benjamin Organa Solo’s pending nuptials were true. And to have Mandalore as their compatriot would be a boon. Beating them the first time hadn’t been easy. It was only the Consort’s defeat of the general Kylo Ren that had allowed Alderaan and the smaller allied countries a fighting chance. 

Midnight drew closer. Poe ordered Finn and Rose into the seat up front. He would walk beside the caravan, alternating throughout the night. And Rey would guard from within, allowing her time to nap as well. Finn slapped the reins and the caravan began to move forward, wheels creaking, leather sliding, and cobblestone rumbling under the wheels. Rey leapt on the back and grabbed a handle. She glanced over her shoulder as they approached the palace gates. A small figure, hair in elaborate braids, was leaning against the Consort. 

The Queen was a brave fighter and Rey would not let her down. Scrambling to remember her dim knowledge of her court protocol, Rey rapped lightly on the door before entering. The caravan was dim, a single lantern swaying with the slight jostling along the road. And there he was. The Prince sat in the back, his face covering beside him--a glaringly black helmet, eye slits. Much like Alderaanian knights but without the gleaming silver and blue. She tried not to shudder.

“Your highness,” she whispered as she took a seat by the door, staff sticking out as if to trip any wayward intruders. 

“You must be the first guard tonight,” the man rumbled in a pleasingly deep voice. His smile was crooked. The caravan was somewhat cramped; his long legs stretched forward and the bunks ran along the walls with shelves overhead crowded with food, drink, and weapons. A chest and a few bags were corralled around the back of the caravan, where the Prince lounged. He leaned his head back, turning to face the window, brushing the curtain aside.

Rey was comfortable with the silence, twirling the staff in her hand, ears perked for any noise. After a moment, the Prince sighed gustily. His features were lit by the sliver of the moon, revealing a landscape dotted with moles and freckles, a long nose, full lips turned down. Split by a vicious scar, pink and puckered, that mapped a trail from his eyebrow, trekked across the ridge of his nose, and down into the plains of his cheek before being lost in his high collared tunic. It might render some ugly and she wondered if he were nervous about meeting his bride. 

“Alderaan is most pleasant in the moonlight,” she ventured to break the melancholy. She heard voices outside and recognized one as belonging to Snap, a northern wall guard. 

“I wouldn’t know,” the Prince replied. “I am not allowed to leave the Palace.” Rey frowned. 

“Then how do you know your city?” He arched a brow and she blushed. “Pardon me, your highness.”

He hummed. “I appreciate your frankness.” He pulled up a large bag, lifting a flap to reveal reams of scrolls. “And this is how. Books. Images through windows. Art.” Rey’s brow wrinkled and she didn’t recognize the odd twang her heart gave. Perhaps sympathy, she thought. An emotion scavengers rarely felt and that the army didn’t really encourage. 

“Well, perhaps you’ll see more of Mandalore when you’re there?” she offered, scant comfort as far as she knew. He tipped his head and she wondered if the Queen knew how much of her aristocratic ways her son inherited. 

“I will be merely a Consort there, same as my father here. Except Mandalore isn’t nearly as progressive as my mother. My job is to be a broodmare. And a warning.” Rey bit her lip. This was treading on the edge of uncomfortable. It was her job to guard him. Not soothe him. Certainly not befriend him. 

“A warning? For what? The First Order?” She understood tactics. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. 

“Something like that. Now--Rey is it?--you should rest. We are quite safe here. But as we near the Forests of Endor and the Dunes of Tatooine, you and I both know there will be bandits a plenty.” Rey snorted but agreed. To her surprise, he handed her a steaming cup of tea. There was a tiny warmer in the back and she had not noticed the glow as she chatted with him. Clearing her throat, she mumbled her thanks. 

“Please. Call me Ben.” 

_ Day 1 _

The landscape around the capital city was populated with robust hamlets that trickled into large farms. They bleed easily into the crowds, just another group of folks traveling together. Rey ended her shift after a four hour nap, switching with Finn, and taking her time up front with Rose. As the autumn morning sun dawned late, Rose departed for the back and Rey took the reins while Poe scanned the environment around them.

The Prince was an easy charge. He made no demands of them. He chatted easily with all of them. He knew how to engage Rose, leaving the woman's cheeks pink, her eyes distant in a way that had Rey teasing her, suggesting that perhaps she had found another lover. Rose had giggled, eyes rolling skyward as Finn shouted his indignation. As the sun climbed higher, Rose slipped her hand into Finn's, their easy gait keeping up with the caravan and Rey sucked on her lips, batting at the soft jealousy inhabiting her heart. Her friends had found each other. She was happy for them, she truly was. Only on those winter nights, when cold seeped through stone and gnawed on her bones, did she long for somone's hand, someone to curl around her in the dark. 

Evening came as they began the climb uphill. The road here was less smooth, littered with rocks, the grass thinning, as they headed toward the Forest of Endor. Thick and densely wooded, it would be full of bandits, thieves, roaming groups of former First Order soldiers who had abandoned the group.

“We’ll camp here tonight rather than brave the forest,” Poe ordered, pulling off to the side. It was a neat outcropping. Sheer rock behind them made a defensible position. Rey picked up a bow and arrow and jogged into the edges of the forest. It would be a few hours before they were in the worst of it but even here, even now, it was dim and cool, mists rising up to her ankles. She heard a shuffling and raised her bow. 

A deer approached a depression, water cupped in the moss smoothed sides. A small doe, perhaps a yearling. Rey lifted her bow into position and pulled back the arrow. The doe sniffed and a tongue darted out to touch the cool waters. Rey narrowed her eyes and inhaled. There was a snap and the doe bolted, Rey whirling around as she let go. Her arrow flew straight toward Ben Organa-Solo. 

He dove for the ground and Rey bit back the edge of a shriek. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“I’ve come to check on you,” he shot back as he rose up, dusting needles from black leggings. “You were gone for too long.”

“Why you?” she demanded, fury and horror at war within. She could have shot the Prince! She could have murdered the heir! She couldn’t have been more careless if she had tried. And who sent him into the forest of Endor where he could have been snatched?

“Poe did. It’s alright,” he said, hands out as if calming a nervous filly. 

“It’s not.” Righteous vibrated her slim frame and her fists clenched, as if dreaming of wringing Poe’s neck. “We’re supposed to be protecting you.”

Ben snorted, hands fisting on his hips. “I’m quite capable of protecting myself.” Rey swallowed a shout. It was reckless! But that was Poe to the letter. There was another crack in the air and Rey’s hand flew to her waist where her dagger was strapped. Ben dropped into a crouch, silently pulling a dirk from his boot. A munch and a boom and Rey craned her neck to see lightning flickering along the horizon. Autumn spelled storms the closer one got to the seas of Ahch-to and the forest skirted the edges. It promised a bumpy trip in the days ahead, she fumed, thinking of the caravan wheels sinking into the mud. 

“We should get back,” she finally said as she finished scanning the forest. But she clung to him, a burr to a saddle, as they hustled back to camp. She tried not to notice how quickly he had pulled out a weapon. And how easily he had put away to appear the harmless hapless heir. She allowed herself to fall behind him, to observe the easy march, the way his gaze tracked over the land, the way his hands hung by his sides, slightly curled. 

He moved like a fighter. 

And to her knowledge, the Prince hadn’t been in battle. Frowning, she trailed him back into camp where a merry fire was going and where Finn was rifling through the food to start a stew.

“Deer?” he asked, eyes shining with hope. 

“Distracted as someone sent in the Prince.” Poe winced at her razor thin voice but he gave her a sheepish smile. Rose shook her head as she laid out the bed rolls and Rey could tell that her compatriot had objected. Poe beckoned Rey off to the side and she watched the Prince get settled, asking Finn if he could help, Rose near him, before she followed Poe. He leaned against the caravan. 

“Don’t question me like that again.”

Her lips curled. “You sent our charge into the forest. The forest!” Poe lifted a hand up and she pressed her lips together. 

“There’s much you don’t know, Niima.” Her eyes narrowed. She hated that name--the name of the outpost where she had been caught, her hand deep in the Consort’s purse. “You needed cover, I sent him. You’ve got first shift. That’s an order from your general.” He frowned at her and she resisted the urge to draw her shoulders up, to hide from the flinty look. With a curt nod, he stepped around her and made a ribald joke in Finn’s direction that had Rose protesting. Rey sniffed, heat burning her cheeks, her throat working as she worked something back.

“Your instincts are good,” came a quiet voice and Rey whirled to see the Prince peeking around the corner of the caravan, flask in hand, her staff in another. He looked away, pretending not to see her shining eyes, pretending not to see her scrub her face. After a moment, he handed her the weapon. 

“I apologize that you had to witness that,” she said to the ground. There was silence for a moment, the crackle of the logs, the thunder rumbling in the background. She looked up to see the Prince studying her. He licked his lips and took a sip from his flask before offering it to her. She shook her head. 

“You’re good at what you do. I’m glad you’re one of mine,” was all he said before turning away. She stared after him. How could he know how good she was, she wondered, as she began to make a tour of the perimeter, Finn and Rose’s soft voices bringing her comfort that some things in the world would never change. She allowed her gaze to travel over the small clearing, to take in the mist rolling in from the forest, Poe sharpening his sword, and the Prince staring into the flames. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Day 2  _

The trail was muddy and the caravan was stuck and Rey wanted to scream. Instead, at Poe’s command, she threw herself against the vehicle, rain stinging her face. 

“One more time!” Poe shouted. Gritting her teeth and inhaling deeply, she pushed herself forward, feet slipping in the mud, finally giving out beneath her as the caravan lurched forward, back onto the stony path. Her heart hammered her chest and she ignored the hand held out to her. The Prince merely frowned as she stood up, refusing to wipe the mud off her trousers or poncho. There would be little point. She’d be doing this again in another mile or so at the rate they were traveling.

“You should be inside,” she snapped. 

“You want to add my weight to that?”

“I want you to be safe!” She shook her staff at the futility of it all. She wondered if it would have been wiser to send him with a large procession. Surely in a bigger group he’d be less quarrelsome, more likely to take on royal airs than toil in the mud and rain next to her, his muscle more likely shoving the ungainly caravan out of each hole than her stringy strength. 

“How can I not be when I’m surrounded by the greatest fighters in the Alderaan army?” He was mocking her, she was sure of it and she clenched her jaw. Who had she pissed off so badly to have this sort of life? What sort of karma was she carrying and surely protecting the heir would clear her of some of that debt. The rain continued to pelt down and she shivered in her poncho as wind whistled into every opening. The air crackled and lightning struck, forking around them, blinding white and fierce, hair rising on her skin as heat ripped through her. Without thinking, she flung herself onto the Prince, hurling them to the ground, trying to cover him with her body. 

Booming sound wracked her frame and her scream was swallowed by the crackling and the Prince’s body shuddering underneath her. Her ears rang, her vision cleared, and she slowly became aware that she was hauling in great gulps of rasping air, the Prince peering up at her through a mat of wet hair. The trees swayed in the wind and something acrid hit her nose. She rolled to her feet, muscles aching and she blinked away the rain dripping in her eyes. 

Rey bolted toward the wreck of the caravan, charred wood sizzling where the rain hit it. On the ground, clutching his arm, Finn, his jacket singed, his face tight in pain. Rose was shrieking as she dragged something away from the wreck--Poe, limp, skin spiderwebbed white, chest barely moving. Acting on impulse, she ordered Ben to help Rose while she knelt next to Finn.

He had been hit by a few pieces of shrapnel. Around them, trees were sputtering and hissing, branches dropping with loud cracks. The ground shook--a tree had fallen across their path, smoke curling around it. Rey dug in her pack for healing cream and focused on pulling out shard, slathering on cream, and wrapping Finn’s wounds.

“You’re bleeding, too, Rey,” he said, refusing the poppy juice she offered. He didn’t want his senses to become befuddled. She ignored the pain in her arm from the gash across it. Rey propped him up against a rock, wiping the lessening rain from her eyes. Sunlight was beginning to pierce the clouds and she cursed the gods. She darted over to Rose and Ben. They had begun to work on Poe.

“He took the brunt of the hit. His back is completely burned. He has a head injury and he needs a real healer, Rey, and fast. Whatever we’re doing is just holding off until we can get real help.” Rose’s rapid delivery coalesced certain facts to Rey. 

They were down two men. 

They had three days to get to Mandalore. 

Their horse had bolted. 

The odds were overwhelming. 

Panic began to claw up her throat and her blood roared in her ears. A sharp inhale. Focusing on the fact that the Prince had gone, Rey blinked rapidly several times, breathing deeply, finding her center again. She had faced long odds before. She could again. 

“Where’s the Prince?” 

“He had a line on the horse and he went to get her back,” Rose replied. She stood up and in the gloom, her face was streaked with weariness. Rey longed to hug her, to let her know it would be alright, that if those two could fight their way out of a garrison of stormtroopers, they could get the Prince to Mandalore and heal Poe. It was just a way of thinking about their resources.

As if on the same train of thought, Rose said: “We should send Finn back into the village with the horse. They both need healers. The three of us can carry forward.”

“Do we have enough food and water?”

“Probably enough to get through today and then tomorrow we’ll need to, uh, scavenge.” She winked at Rey who rolled her eyes. But it was a good plan and after a few more moments of discussion, they finished mapping out the contours just as Ben was walking back, the horse following sedately behind. It was one step in making their plan happen and Rey took in his face. 

He was haggard and worn, like Rose. Like Finn. Like herself, she thought, and just as mud splattered as the rest of them. At that moment, he seemed less like a prince and more like a soldier. He stopped in front of her, eyes roving her face, almost as if drinking in her appearance. 

“You need tending to,” he said roughly and she shook her head, wincing as pain crabbed up her spine. 

“Let’s get Finn and Poe taken care of,” she replied, turning to the caravan to do what she did best: scavenging. She found a couple packets of mostly intact food and one water skein. Most of the Prince’s wardrobe was ruined, his bag of books burnt and water logged. But his jewelry was fine and a leather coat made an excellent makeshift bag. Rey sorted the items and put most of the food and money in their bags, leaving some coin for Finn to find a healer. 

And in the corner, was Poe’s bag, peeking underneath the ruined bed. Rey filched it out and opened it to see a hard box, usually reserved for state secrets. She peered over her shoulder to see Finn and Rose talking reservedly, Ben looting through the remains for weapons that could be salvaged. What a group, she thought morosely, as she turned back to the box. 

She debated a moment before stashing it into her bag. Perhaps it needed to go to Mandalore, she told herself as she returned to the horse. Rey helped Finn mount the rather large draft horse and Ben aided in draping Poe in front of him. He slipped a ring off his finger and handed it to Finn.

“If someone gives you trouble, show them this. And at any rate, it has a good trade value.” Rey’s eyes widened. It was a ring bearing the Alderaan royal symbol. Lapis lazuli pressed into gold and silver, with diamonds encircling the crest. Finn began to protest but Rose shushed him. 

“It may get you into the garrison we saw stationed. Try there first. You have a couple hours before darkness falls,” Rose ordered and Rey bit back a smile. She could see why Rose rapidly rose in the ranks. A brilliant and cunning woman, deft with any form of machinery. Soft spoken when she wanted to be and easily hidden. Rey frowned for a moment as she realized that she knew Rose’s position, but not her actual job within the ranks. Rey was a foot soldier with a soft touch for machinery and ships that made up the Alderaan Navy. What was Rose?

Finn bent down and kissed Rose. “I’ll be waiting for your return.” It was a warning, Rey realized, frown deepening. She opened her mouth when a hand descended on her shoulder and she looked up to see the Prince, concern thick in his eyes.

“You’re injured. Let them say their goodbyes and let’s look at what happened to you when saving my life.”

“I...I didn’t save your life.”

The Prince grinned, crooked and soft, a distant echo of the Consort’s. Rey nearly balked. “Sure you didn’t, Niima.”

“Don’t call me that.” The harshness was out before she thought and she flushed red, dipping her head. “I apologize, your highness.” He squinted at her and licked his lips, shoulders curling in around himself. She dropped her gaze again. She was becoming too familiar with him.

“Follow me.” He turned and headed toward the fallen tree, Rey meekly in his footsteps. She submitted to an examination, long fingers walking across her skull, trailing behind her ears where she flinched. He held out a splinter, about as long as her smallest finger, covered in red. She cleared her throat and tucked her arms in her side. She heard his huff and then felt his hands skimming across her skin. She tried not to notice how warm they were. She tried not to hear the rasp of his calloused fingers across her bare shoulders. She tried not to jerk as he pulled more splinters out of her skin before he began rubbing lotion on her arm and wrapping a bandage around it. 

“Thank you,” she said more to the tree than to him. He remained behind her, his breath ghosting across her collarbone. She heard him inhale and she closed her eyes, unable to bear his kindness any longer. 

She stood up and spied Rose watching them curiously. 

“It’s time to strike out,” she commanded. They gathered their packs in the dim sunlight, bedrolls strapped to the top, an empty water skein strapped to her thigh. She had two knives, her short sword, and her staff. She should be fine, she thought. Rose had a bow and arrow and a sword as well. With a nod at the other woman, they moved around the Prince so that he was in the middle. 

They continued the trek north. 

The path began to turn away from the coast, inclining upward, the trio panting at times as they climbed over large boulders. Soon they would reach the summit. And it would be across the high desert of Tatooine into Mandalore. They moved slowly at first, picking up pace whenever the rain would allow them to nearly job. Rey was almost surprised at how easily the Prince kept up with them, how he didn’t complain. 

They stopped to catch their breath and Rose pulled out a small pair of binoculars, scanning the horizon in a slow sweeping motion. Rey took a drag from the skein and handed it to the Prince. He took it without a word. She was almost certain he had spent time in battle. From the way he rested, the way his hand would creep toward his blade, the way he was as alert as them, as comfortable as them with their packs.

He wasn’t as coddled as he made himself out to be, she thought. And like all royalty, nothing more than a liar. She didn’t understand why it made her suddenly catch her breath, as if stopping a sob from being born from a puzzling misery. 

“There’s a cave up ahead, about a quarter mile. I’m going to scout and check it out. Can you two wait here?” Without waiting for an answer, Rose plunged into the forest. Rey sniffed and settled against a moss covered boulder, listening to the chirps and twitterings of the birds. Water dripped from sodden leaves that were turning gold and red in the coming chill. Pine and fir trees were clustered together, dark and green, in the fading light. She watched Ben close his eyes for a moment, his worries sliding off of him. 

He was younger than she thought. In this restful position, he seemed his age--almost thirty years, at the edge of permanent bachelorhood. From her own twenty years of age, he seemed ancient. Overworn. Used as if someone had stretched him thin, the years unkind to him. She wondered just what he did in the war. No one moved as silently as he did without some form of training. 

Presently Rose returned and said the cave was empty. It looked like it had been used by an animal earlier but the smells were gone and the droppings dry, so it seemed a safe bet. As thunder rolled overheard, Rey agreed. She just wanted to be dry for once. 

She gathered wood as they marched to the cave and knelt to build a small fire. Dinner was dried meat, dried berries, and a loaf of bread, divided into three. Rose found a brook nearby and suggested they take turns bathing. They hung their damp ponchos up in the cave, water sluicing down them, boots in front of the fire, as Rose disappeared first. 

“Wake me when it's my turn,” the Prince said as strippd down to his trousers and thin, but dry, undershirt. He lay down on his bedroll, bag under his head, and closed his eyes. She kept an eye on the mouth of the cave as he snoozed and Rose ran back a few moments later, wearing a clean shirt of Finn’s that nearly came to her knees.

“I miss him,” she said softly and Rey placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“You’ll be back in a week. And your wedding will be one the poets sing of.”

Rose groaned. “Don’t remind me. Poe has asked to give a speech.” Rey’s brows traveled upwards and Rose nodded in agreement. Rey nudged the Prince with her toe and he shot up, hand snapping around her ankle. She gasped. He stared up at her, eyes hollowed and flat, and she swore she saw murder in them. Some sort of darkness that threatened them all. 

He dropped her foot, mumbled an apology, and fled. Rey looked over at Rose who was assiduously laying out the damp clothes. 

“You know something,” Rey said. Rose shook her head and gave Rey a soft look. 

“If I did, could I tell you? This is a secret mission, Rey. Why do you think they chose the four of us? It isn’t because we’re war heros.” Rey frowned at that. 

“I assumed Poe was chosen as the Queen trusts him.”

“The Queen demoted him. He’s no longer General Dameron. He’s Captain.” Rey’s mouth dropped open. She had heard through the barracks that the Queen had been displeased with a reckless maneuver during a skirmish with the First Order last month. But to be demoted? 

“This is his way to get back into her good graces. And she trusted him to think sideways, like he usually does,” Rose continued as she sat before the fire, holding her hands in front of the flames to warm them. “You are an oddball--no one knows quite what to do with you. And Finn is a traitor.”

“He fought nobly against the First Order.”

Rose stared into the fire before looking up. “Can we trust a man who so easily killed his former fellow soldiers?” Rey bristled on Finn’s behalf. He was kind, he was funny, he was loyal, and he was true. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to convince other stormtroopers. All it did was put a price on his head and sent him running with the cavalry to rout the First Order within the Shadowlands of Exegol. 

Rey licked her lips as she considered all the elements, the black box in the bag. She hadn’t read the letters yet but she could just about imagine what they were going to say. 

“A traitor, a disgraced general, and a spy leader who lost her best spy,” Rey whispered. Rose, to her credit, barely flinched at the accusation. It all made sense--Rose’s secrets and disappearance and the Queen’s reliance on her. Rose’s understanding of shiftiness, her sly cleverness. Her uncanny ability to read people.

“And what about me?” 

“You? The one that Luke Skywalker sent on his secret missions? The one he taught his nearly forgotten order, the way of the Jedi? You had an opportunity to kill Kylo Ren. But you didn’t take it,” Rose said. “No matter how much the Consort adores you and trusts only you to pilot the Falcon. You are tainted, Rey.”

Rey’s nostrils flared as the lump began to rise in her throat, threatening to strangle her with the resentment and fear of the night that had haunted her dreams for a year now. Of her dangerous mission to rescue the Skywalker texts from the Temple of Mortis in First Order territory. Guarded by Kylo Ren and his Knights of Ren. She had slipped and scavenged and spied, Skywalker’s sword in her hand. The key to open the tomb to steal the texts. But that night, snow crunching beneath her feet, her heart in her throat, her boots soggy, cold burning her toes, she had met Kylo Ren. 

A fight ensued. And when she pulled out the Skywalker blade to fight, how he had become a frenzy. Kylo Ren. A dark, hulking figure, muscles rippling beneath his tunic. He dwarfed her, raining blow after blow on her. She was stumbling, ears roaring, lips dry, grasping for every trick Luke taught her. Kylo Ren taunted her, claiming she was unworthy. And then an offer.

“Come to my side. I can give you every dream you’ve ever had, every desire. A family.” Low voice muffled by that mouthguard that had her knees knocking together, resolve melting before her eyes even as the wind began to howl. He snorted, derision oozing from his every cell as he reached for the bag of texts on her back. Fury then, tearing through her, and she slashed at him. Tossing aside everything that Luke had taught her, she pulled up memories of dirty tricks in the street. 

After all, only losers complain about not fighting fair.

A kick, a jab, and a slash--Kylo Ren slumped to the ground, pieces of his helmet around him. Her blade gleaned red. As ragged breaths burned her throat, she thought about ending it. And then he looked up--one dark eye surrounded by jagged black of his helmet. Soft and frightened. Rey fell backward, anger parting to find reluctance. She turned and fled. 

But not to approbation. Shame. Disapproval from the generals, Poe ridiculing her in front of an entire platoon until other soldiers jeered at her and she was shuffled off into reconnaissance for the Consort and constantly repairing his stubborn ship. 

“So, here we are. A band of misfits. I wonder just why we were chosen,” she murmured before snatching her own clothes and marching out to the stream to leave Rose brood in silence. Rey’s steps were loud on the dying needles, knees brushing bushes, until she was sure she was loud enough to wake the dead. 

But she still surprised the Prince, waist deep in the still pond, his eyes widening with surprise. Rey gasped and whirled around, stammering out an apology. To her surprise, never ending it seemed with this one, Ben chuckled. 

“It’s never a boring day here,” he remarked. “I’m getting out now, Rey.” She squeezed her eyes shut, the jostling of the water loud in her ears. She pressed her arms to her sides, wondering just how else she could ruin today.

“Your highness, may I ask a question?” 

“I told you to call me Ben.”

She licked her lips and pushed forward. “Ben...why we were chosen for this trip?” There was a short silence and she heard the sound of leather against skin, fabric flapping in the air. She turned her head and slitted her eyes open. Ben’s back was to her and her eyes flew open and the scar that tracked down his shoulder. And the other one on his side, an explosion, a cratered splash of white, dribbles of scars that dipped below the band of his trousers, across the expanse of a well muscled chest.

She jerked her head back, cheeks burning, stomach clenching.

“I don’t know. I’m just the package,” his voice was bitter and she ventured another question.

“Did you not want to get married?”

Ben snorted. “I’m being shuttled off to Mandalore in hopes that my face doesn’t frighten the Princess A’dlena. She’s a Mandalorian and a former death warrior, so perhaps it won’t seem so unusual and ugly to her as it has with every other princess.” Rey’s brow furrowed as she remembered the parade of courtiers the past year but she assumed it had to do with the defeat of the First Order. It could have been both, she thought, and winced at the thought of Ben being trotted out as a prize. And being constantly rejected.

“I...I don’t…”she paused and inhaled deeply. The rustling behind her stopped. She tried again. 

“I don’t find you ugly or frightening.” There was an amused sound behind her and Rey tensed, expecting to be mocked. Instead the sound of crunched needles and a hand on her shoulder, turning her around. She tried not to face him but a long finger slid under her chin and titled her up to meet his frank gaze. Damp hair dripped down to his shoulders, the ends beginning to curl. She ordered herself not to fidget, even as her fingers tapped her thighs.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you,” he murmured, almost too himself. He was too close, towering over her, his breath skating along her cheek, his brown eyes warm with something like mirth but without the hardness she had come to expect from others. Almost as if he were amused with her and not at her. She swallowed hard and his gaze tracked the movement of the muscle, thumb tracing the hollow in her collarbone. 

She was bold. She was brave. She was stupid. At some point, what was the difference?

“Were you even meant to survive the trip to Mandalore?” 

The question hung in the air between them. His calloused thumb dragged across her throat and his fingers spasmed around the column of her neck. She trembled and his eyes darkened. 

Abruptly, he jerked his hand away and stalked off, leaving his muddy clothes. Rey stared after him, wondering what had just happened. Shaking her head and cursing nobility, she dived into the water, teeth chattering at the briskness. She washed quickly, pondering how she was going to get him into Mandalore or if she should even try. Feeling refreshed, she slipped into warm deerskin leggings and shrugged on a thicker tunic, dark brown with grey wrappings. She picked up her staff and the Prince’s clothing, moving silently back to the cave.

Where the fire was scuffled out, belongings knocked over, blood smeared on the wall. And no sign of Rose or Ben. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may be the longest chapter, i think


	3. Chapter 3

_ Day 3 --Shortly after midnight  _

  
  


Rey spent much of the night following the trail deeper into the forest and away from the Dunes of Tatooine. As it crept closer to midnight, the bandits began to assemble a fire and Rey scaled a tree, fading behind the clumps of leaves. It was five men, not the best odds, she thought. They were all tall and broad with one man carrying a pike. When Rey had surveyed the cave, she had found Rose’s bow shattered. The odds were not in her favor. 

Three men stood guard around Ben and Rose, even though they lashed the pair to the trunk of a tree. One man prodded Ben with his staff while another jeered at Rose, his taunting tone reaching Rey in the heights of her tree. She frowned as one man threw back his hood revealing a shock of red hair.

“Knock it off, Thanisson!” he shouted. “Pryde wants him alive and uninjured. And I want the spymaster.” The thin reedy man, Thanisson, paused in his torments and the redhead swore loudly. He began to order the other man--Mitaka--to prepare the meal. 

“Pryde wants them in good shape. But that doesn’t mean they can't survive on bread and water,” he said critically, jerking Ben’s head up. Rey bit back a gasp at the large bruise under Ben’s eye. Rose’s lip was split, a bruise blooming across her temple. Thanisson began to dangle bread near the captives, who both refused to take the bait. Hux snorted and made a derisive comment lost in the whoosh of flames as the fire took root. Rey’s lip curled and she leaned back against the trunk, considering her options. The wind rustled the leaves and a bunch of berries brushed her skin. She twisted her head and grabbed the branch. A thick cluster of dark red berries sat at the end. She sat up. Were the gods finally smiling on her? Only one way to find out.

She grabbed the berries and squeezed them, pleased when oily green juice oozed out. Poisonous harrowbane. Just her luck. Their slight acrid smell would be masked in the spicy stew Mitaka was making. She smiled and plucked off the bunch, sliding forward on the branch until she dangled over the stew pot bubbling fifteen feet below her. Mitaka was chopping up some sort of root vegetable. As he turned his head, Rey picked a few berries and let them drop. To her immense relief, they fell directly into the pot and sank below the simmering broth. As Mitaka added vegetables, Rey continued to slightly squeeze and drop harrowbane into the stew. Then she crawled back, dropped to the other side of the trunk and foraged for a couple of rocks. 

As the bandits settled, one patrolled the perimeter of their camp, constantly scanning the forest. A deep roar reverberated for a moment and even Hux looked unsettled. 

“We can handle a bear,” he reminded them, appearing mostly to reassure himself. He took a big bite of his soup, complimenting Mitaka on the flavors. Rey settled in the shadows of the trees and glanced up at the sky. Stars sparkled through wisps of clouds, the moon continuing to wane, barely a sliver left. The better for her, she thought. 

An hour later the cries began. One of the men began complaining of a headache. He slid against a tree. Another staggered over and began vomiting. Hux screamed and jerked a dagger out, waving it around. 

“Who’s here? Who dares to fight against the First Order?” Rey smiled to herself and began to move around the perimeter, crouching low and keeping to the darkness until she slid behind the tree where Rose and Ben were tied. Rose’s eyes widened and Rey lifted a finger to her lips to signal silence. Her dagger slid easily to the ropes, the prisoners forgotten as the soldiers fell to their knees, expelling food. Thanisson let out a cry and toppled over, his face fish belly white, his lips purple, a bubble foaming over his lips. It wavered and popped. He remained still, eyes open and unseeing. 

Rey freed Ben and handed Rose the dagger. The woman moved quickly, thrusting the knife into Thanisson’s neck. To keep him down, Rey knew. Rey threw a rock at Mitaka’s head. It thumped loudly and he stumbled back. Another one followed, hitting him in the shoulder. He sobbed, crying about the haunted forest. Hux whirled around and stared at the freed prisoners. Rey whipped her staff around and prepared to do battle. Ben lumbered forward, jerking the sword off Thanisson’s waist. He stalked toward Hux.

“Traitor,” the red head hissed, one arm clutching his stomach. He bared his teeth. “Do they know about you? About what you did?” Ben was silent, swinging the sword and Rey stared after him, curiosity piqued, before a strangled yell caught her attention. She ducked as a large man brought down a pike, tree bark shattering from the blow. She danced back, jabbing with her staff. He parried it, his lips bleeding purple. He had only a few moments left and he was wasting them with her, she thought. 

He swung and she dipped, pike narrowly missing her. Rey carved her staff upward, clipping his chin. He flailed, arms whirling and she dropped to the ground, staff whistling as it cut his legs out from underneath him. He fell. She grabbed the pike and slammed it into his skull with a loud crunch. She looked up to see Ben easily moving around the weakening Hux. Rose had neatly dispatched the remaining soldier, his shirt draped with red, his eyes flat. She was rummaging through Hux’s bags, the consummate spymaster, keeping one eye on the fight. 

Hux swung in a wide arc and Ben easily parried it, feinting off toward Hux’s arm tearing through his jacket. The other man swore and drove forward. Ben swept the blade away, light on his feet, despite the skin tightening on his eyes. Hux landed a quick blow on his thigh and Ben hissed. 

“I can’t believe you dare stand here and fight me, Ben Solo,” Hux sneered. 

“I always fight, Hux.”

“You lack the courage of your convictions. As if you ever had any!” Ben roared at that, rushing the other man. Hux lashed out, sword a blur in the dying firelight. Rey moved forward but Rose stopped her, throwing her arm in front of her chest. Hux batted at Ben’s sword, barely able to pierce his defenses. Ben, for his part, was a force. He twirled and ducked, blade slicing Hux’s elbow. Hux cried out and Ben stepped int close, clocking Hux with his bell guard. Hux twisted and landed into a tree and Ben leveled the sword at his throat. 

The redhead laughed, bearing blood stained teeth. 

“Do it. Better a death by the blade than one by poison.” His eyes twitched toward Rey and she swallowed hard. 

“Do you have what you need from him?” Ben asked, his voice low and strained. 

“I need a few moments alone,” Rose said. Ben nodded and stepped away, the short woman hurrying forward, dagger gleaming crimson in the dying flames.

“You’re a coward, Ky--”Ben darted forward, grabbing Hux by the neck, squeezing tight. “Ky...Ky….your secret….”

“Never ever say that to me. I nearly gave everything!” Ben shouted, large frame vibrating. Rose pulled at his arm, shouting at him, hammering at him with his fist. 

“I need him alive!” she shrieked. Rey was frozen by the edge. Those moves. That twirl in the forest. The punching with the bellguard. The deft way he easily sidestepped a slashing blade. The broadness of his shoulders.

Ky...Ky…..Hux still cried, even as he began to go limp. Ben let go, snarling, letting the other man to fall to the ground where Rose propped him up. Hux weakly chomped his teeth in her direction and she slapped him. 

“I need you alive but that can mean so many things,” she snapped, even as she pulled a vial out of a kit and poured it down his throat. Rey recognized it as a charcoal diffuser. It could slow down the effects of the harrowbane. Hux began to hack, shoulders shacking, black foam bubbling at his lips as he expelled the remains of the stew. Rey watched Ben drag his hand across his mouth, pacing rapidly, his eyes narrowed. 

For a large man, he moved easily.

For a prince, he moved like a soldier. 

For a soldier, he moved like one with Jedi training. 

Ky…..Ky…..

Rey closed her eyes and exhaled. 

She was brave and bold and stupid and she clutched her staff tightly.

“You’re Kylo Ren,” she whispered and for a moment, she thought her words had been snatched by the night air. But Hux chortled and she heard Rose sigh. She opened her eyes to see Ben staring at her, hand rising up to trace the scar on his face. The one she had given him. 

He was breathing heavily and she saw his knuckles whiten on his sword. She didn’t know if she could beat him again, she realized. That night was luck.

Birds began to chirp. Dawn of the third day was coming. 

Ben drew himself up to his full height. “Rose, do you have what you need?”

“Yes, his documents indicate a town a few miles from here. I can get a horse and get these to their Majesties right away.”

“Do so.” He was flint and he was steel and he sparked a need for her to stand ramrod straight, to follow a command straight into the bowels of hell. He was bait. To draw out the First Order. General Hux, one of the last remaining leaders. 

“Niima, gather your items. We’re off to Mandalore.” 

He paused for a moment to speak softly to Rose, their voices lost in Hux’s moans. Rey’s voice clicked as she couldn’t swallow, throat suddenly gone dry. They were chosen for a reason, all of them.

She stood stock still, gaze sealed to the ground, unsure of where to look or what to do. Was he a traitor? Did she follow him? She lifted her eyes to see Hux being tied up by Rose, her face curiously smooth and flat. Was this a place she went to when she had to become a spymaster? Rey licked her lips and found it did not soothe. 

Ben paused a few steps behind her. “I gave you an order.” Birds twittered. Rey shuddered and looked desperately at Rose who would not meet her gaze. After a moment, Ben ordered her to catch up and continued his march in the forest, his footfalls nearly silent. 

“You know why you were chosen?” Rose said suddenly. Rey shook her head. Rose looked up and met her gaze, flat and direct. “So far you’re the only one who has been able to stop him when he’s in a fighting rage.”

Rey chuckled dryly. “Were we all just meant to be sacrificed?” 

“You know nothing of serving then,” Hux suddenly said. “Being asked to sacrifice for one’s country is the greatest thing to be asked for one can do.” 

“Said the man who got rich off of exploited laborers,” Rose remarked. She jerked her head at Rey. “Get going. I’ll be fine here.” Giving one last reluctant look, Rey turned and began hiking the forest, the light grey and gloomy, cool air picking the sweat off her body, transmuting it into ice that sent shivers racing along her spine. Ben was in the distance, unhurriedly walking, long legs eating up the distance. She forced herself not to race after him, understanding she was petulant but feeling as if she were sinking into a mire that she could not logic herself out of, shreds of evidence hung together with gossamer threads that followed no direction. 

Her curiosity would not be sated. Bewilderment defeated sullen and she hurried to move next to him.

“We need to march through the night to make Mandalore on time,” Ben said in a clipped voice. “We’ve lost much time. And we need to go to the cave to regather supplies.” 

“No, we don’t. I stashed them near the road, assuming we’d return eventually.” She took over then, swiftly assuming command, almost amused at how easily Ben fell in behind her, watching her back, as they pushed on, through the thinning birch trees. The air grew bright around them, revealing the snapped branches and shredded brambles. Rose had been leaving a trail for Rey to follow by tramping as loudly and as brokenly as possible. Shy and retiring, indeed, Rey scoffed inwardly, thinking of Snap’s derision.

She located the packs, tucked between the roots of a tree and they spent a few moment sorting through them.

“Fort D’Qar is only a few miles west,” Ben said abruptly. “Rose will be alright.”

“I trust Rose to survive,” Rey sniffed, slinging her bag on her back and securing blades to her arms with Rose’s wrist guards. This country was harder and more taxing than she had imagined originally. She held back a snort at Poe’s description of this as an easy trip, that the worse thing she had to do was pretend to be in love with him. She rubbed her chest for a moment, stomach clenching, allowing herself to think of Finn and Poe. Their mud splattered body, the scabbed over cut under Finn’s eye, Poe’s limpness, his low rolling moan as Finn had urged the horse back to town. She hoped they had made it safely. 

“We’re losing daylight,” Ben said, low and rough. Her head jerked and she nodded as Ben pulled out a map and studying it. “The road is a dangerous idea. They were expecting us and I imagine they have several other surprises ahead.”

“It’s the fastest way.”

Ben stabbed the map, his fingers long and thick and Rey tried not to think of how they creaked in their leather gloves as he bore down on her with his thick blood red broadsword. 

“We’ll go north, here, through her.”

“Crait?! You want to cross at the salts of Crait? We don’t have enough water!” 

“There’s a secret base there, in the cliffs. We can fill up there. And then cross over into Mandalore via the Forest of Kashyyyk.” 

“That forest is dangerous!”

Ben sighed, planting his hands on his thighs. The map curled up on the forest floor with a whisper. 

“I do not and will not, negotiate every decision. You swore an oath and I am holding you to it.” His head was lifted, his chin did not waver, and she could not hold his hard gaze for long. “Every step we take on this journey is fraught with danger.” He rose, strapping his blade to his belt. Rey tried not to look at it. The same thick flat edge, the same heavy black sheath. She reflected on Rose’s words and did not think that if this version of Ben, this iteration of Kylo, tried to fight her, she would not win. 

“Let us march. We have a long way to go.” He set a steady pace and after a moment, glancing over her shoulder, back to the road and its promise of safety and surety, an illusion that felt more at ease than the trials of Crait, Rey fell in line. 


	4. Chapter 4

_ Day 3--Twilight  _

The last of the short cliffs stood before them, the rapids churning next to them, Rey’s boots damp, her calves aching. Ben appeared to be flagging as well, groaning as he grabbed a hold of the boulder and pulled himself up, boots scrabbling for purchase. A few more moves and he was over the ledge. Rey blew out her air, swiping back slick soaked strands, and grasped a rock, limbs screaming as she hefted herself upward. Her soles slipped and she cried out as skin slid across rough stone. 

Shaking her head, Rey clutched the rock when a hand dropped into view. Ben stared down at her, palm firm and dry. Rey growled and continued upward, cursing as her knee banged into a particularly pointy outcropping. She hauled herself over the ledge and lay on the ground panting. Rolling over on her back, she stared up at the deepening sky, marbled peach and coral, violet fringes hinting at the coming night. But then Ben poked his head into her view and she groaned. 

“You could have made that easier.” His tone was light but the reprimand was short. She huffed, rolling to her feet and gesturing for him to carry on. He stared at her before shaking his head and they trekked up the gentle upward rocks, the creek burbling next to them. They paused to take their fill of water before Ben stopped fully to stare at the sky. 

“Are we lost?” Rey asked in a plaintive voice. Ben tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear and she sucked on a laugh as his ear poked out at a jaunty angle. She had heard the Prince had rather large ears. She had barely glimpsed them through his curtain of black waves. 

“No but it’s getting late and we deserve some sleep tonight,” he replied, studying the map by the dying of the light. “We’re about three miles southwest of where we need to be if we are going to cross Crait tomorrow morning.” Rey gestured for him to lead and he crooked his lips at her in something that resembled self deprecation that sent her breath spiraling in her rib cage.

She hated when he tried to act human one moment, then a commanding prince the next, all the while that she knew that he was Kylo Ren. The man who beat her down with that terrible sword swinging at his hip. He jerked his chin toward her knee.

“Shall we look at your injury?”

Rey brushed past, throwing back a quick response, and returned her attention to plodding forward, her toes singing in the moist air, her boot leather wet and heavy. Dampness clung to her and she longed to pull a cloak out of her pack. 

“Don’t you want to talk about it?” Ben said suddenly, low voice shattering the silence. She jutted her chin forward and focused on her steps, nimbly jumping from damp rock to damp rock as they crossed the narrowest part of the river. 

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Why I was Kylo Ren, for one. What I was trying to do. What happened at Corellia. Why you’re here.”

Rey leapt the last few feet with a grunt, foot splashing in a puddle. She swore and turned to watch Ben gracefully cover the distance with an easy stride. She hated his long legs. As he shook his hair, running fingers through his shaggy mane, eyes sparking with pleasure, all she could remember was his cold face, hidden by a visor, staring up at her, the sea crashing into the cliffs below. 

“I’m just a lowly soldier, remember? A no one. I do as I’m told.” Her chin wobbled and she cursed herself as his gaze darted to it, eyes softening, pleasure fleeing from his features as if they no longer had a home there. She licked her lips, swallowing the questions that threatened to overwhelm her, and wrapped herself in her resentment, using it to propel her legs forward. After a moment, she heard a sigh and then Ben’s feet crunching gravel behind her. 

The night began to deepen after another hour and Ben ordered them to stop. It was too much of a danger to continue without the moon and without using a torch, a risk with parties looking for him. They picked a spot near the top of the mountain, where moss covered rock made for a slippery but vaguely softer surface. Water slid down verdant rocks to splash into a lagoon. She dug through the brush to gather sticks and dried needles while Ben rooted through their packs for something to eat. She could hunt something, she thought, but exhaustion dogged her every step. After last night’s sleeplessness, fighting and then the day’s arduous hike at Ben’s punishing rate, she was ready to curl up and sleep. Even if it was on a slightly damp bedroll on hard rock. To her surprise, there was a bed of needles, layers of moss and leaves under it, with Ben padding some under his own. 

He grinned up at her, gesturing toward a spread of dried meats, fruit, and notes, with one half loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese that seemed on the knife edge of going bad.

“I figured after today’s hike, asking us to sleep on a rock was a bit much,” he admitted as he took the wood and began striking flint to cause a flame. She watched him bend over it, blowing softly, as she took a ragged bite of bread. He huffed, cupping the flame, feeding it dried needles and twigs until it became something warm and cozy. She lay in her bedroll, head propped up on her bag, not willing to admit that he was right about the needles making a softer surface. Her eyes began to droop and she thought she caught Ben staring at her with sad eyes. 

She woke up with a jerk, eyes scanning her surroundings. Ben was kneeling near her, the fire out, dirt splashed on top. She looked up at him, mouth opening when he lifted a finger to his lips. Then he pointed. She followed the track to see lights flickering in the distance and coming closer.

“First Order raiding party,” Ben whispered. Rey stood up and silently began to roll up her bed, scattering the leaves and the needles. Ben’s bag was already packed. Judging by the darkness she had only a few hours rest. At Ben’s direction, they gathered their items and began to slide into the forest, away from the lights. 

There was no moon to guide them and it took more than a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dark. The lights continued to move around them and her heart began to burst against her ribs. She took a few long slow breaths, scrubbing sweaty palms on her trousers. Ben seemed unaffected, his body coiled, energy thrumming all around them. It was a long half hour that they picked their way through the forest before they came out into a glade, with no signs of lights around them, grass brushing her knees. 

“Did we lose them?” Rey murmured. Ben’s hand flew up, his ear cocking. 

That’s when a sharp twang ripped through the air. Ben hurled himself at her, throwing her to the side. She began to shout when a loud thwack of an arrow hitting a tree stopped her. She rolled into a crouch, crawling along in the grass, as arrows rained down. She bit back a cry as one sliced through her arm. Ben grunted and she looked over to see one buried in his thigh. A wordless shout broke the night’s sky. Rey froze, fingers burning from her tight grip on the staff. 

Men began to enter the glade in an orderly fashion, their uniforms crinkling from the starch. Others began to drop from the trees, their bare feet barely making a noise on the ground, bows at the ready. And then, a man with a proud face cleaved by a sharp noise and a downturned mouth.

“Come out Ben Solo. And we may let the girl live.” Hardly a bargain but he delivered it in his crisp voice as if offering a prize. 

“We can take them,” Rey muttered, reaching into her pack for the one smoke canister salvaged from the caravan’s wreck. She had saved it in case something worse than the bandits had appeared. At that moment, she hated being right. She caught Ben’s eye and he gave the nod. Rey shook it, pulled the lid and flung the canister, the air reacting with the chemicals to release a billowing smoke. The First Order cried out and Rey and Ben began to crawl toward the other side. Racking coughs chased after them and as they neared the woods, shapes began to emerge. 

More soldiers.

Ben hauled her up and shoved her forward, her lungs searing as she took a gasping breath of gas. His sword came out, blood red and a meter long, and into the woods they dashed. He barely slowed down to slash at the legs of the men in their way. Rey jerked out her smaller sword, a sabre, cutting and jabbing, her eyes stinging.

There was a whoosh and she screamed as a wall of fire hit her. 

They had lit the forest on fire to stop them. 

“Back to the river!” Ben bellowed. She stumbled in the dark when men darted in front of her, swords and pikes in their hands. She was backed into a tree, ducking as an axe bit into the wood. She thrust forward with her sword, blade nicking the armor. He hollered and kicked at her. Rey dropped to the ground, rolling, dragging her blade along the back of his knees. He toppled forward and she jumped up, ash dropping on her face, racing toward the faintest rush of water. 

She turned to see Ben thrusting his sword into a soldier, grabbing him by the throat, tossing him on the ground, extracting his blade with a jerk, before moving on to slice at another’s throat. He was soot streaked, a midnight wraith, eyes alight, his scar bright and alive in the shadow of the flames, as he moved through the men. His sword was a blur, his arm rising up to block a downward fist before he speared another fighter. Her blood thrummed in her ears and she could count the men that he ruined between one heartbeat and another. 

There was a crack and she looked up to see a burning branch racing toward her. Rey dove out of the way, crying out as the branch separated her from Ben. Another wall of flames appeared and she was alone. Get to the river, he had ordered. She was a good soldier. Trusting that he would too, she began to run, ducking the dripping flames and flying ash, biting back a wince as one landed on her chest, burning her, eating up her air. She spilled out next to the river, the waterfall loud in her ears. Remembering his commands, she waded into the water, almost sobbing at how cool it felt against her singed flesh. She squatted behind a pile of boulders, ducking below the waves, allowing the cool water to soothe her aches. When she rose, blinking water from her eyes, a dark figure dashed from the forest, chest heaving. Another loud crash and a tree fell into the lagoon, steam rising as the fire was put out. 

Rey clambered over the rock, waving her arms. Ben plunged toward her, leaping over the downed tree and beckoning for her to follow. She did, linking her hand with his, noticing a gash across his forehead, the burns along her hands, his bleeding thigh where a chunk of the arrow shaft remained. He jetted next to the waterfall and nodded, jerking her in after him. There was a small cave, more of a forgotten indentation, moss slicked and wet. Water thundered around them and they leaned against the wall, listening to the men shouting. 

“He can't have disappeared!” That crisp voice hollered, edges gone ragged. “Find him!” Vivid orange seared her eyes and she looked away, almost pressed into Ben’s chest by his arms, as another tree splashed into the lagoon, filling the air with soot and smoke. She coughed into him, his hands soothing her back. She pulled away enough to look at him and as she opened her mouth, he covered it with one trembling finger. 

She nodded, swallowing thickly. 

He bent down, lips warm against her chilled ear. “They will find me here. If they find just you, they’ll be merciful.” She jerked back, eyes blazing and he shook his head. “It’s safer for you I promise. You’ll be the bait.”

She hissed at him. “This is stupid.” He smiled softly then, brushing back strands of her hair, finger caressing her ear. Rey shivered and blamed it on the water splashing down on her. But Ben had caught it and leaned down, pressing his lips to her. Her eyes widened, staring at him, at his constellation of freckles and moles, at the white scar near his brow line, as he pulled her closer to him. His lips were rough and scraping and warm and insistent before becoming soft, his hand massaging her waist. 

Rey hadn’t meant to surrender. But she moaned anyways and allowed herself to tangle her fingers in that thick hair. He tightened his arms around her, deepening his kiss, and her sob was strangled as he pulled away only to pepper her forehead with fierce, tender kisses. 

“I’ll find you! Wherever you go, I’ll come find you. I’ll come back sweetheart. Just stay alive!” His next words were eaten by the roar of another tree crashing, steam seeping through the curtain of water. He kissed her hard then, teeth clacking against hers, and she was sure her brain stopped working. A moment later, he was gone, diving into the lagoon, allowing the current to steal him away.

Rey huddled against the wall, clutching her staff, her hands trembling. Sure enough, the waters were parted and a First Order soldier burst in. She smacked him with her staff, following through with a jab of her sword. It kept her free for a few moments longer as she battled the soldiers. But soon, she was overwhelmed, staff snatched, blade broken, and she was dragged outside, a sword against her throat, a fist pummeling her face until it was swollen and aching. 

She was brought before the slender commanding officer from before. He looked sharply at another soldier who informed him that she was alone. Instead of anger, she saw cunning and he bent at his waist to look into her eyes, his fingers stroking her bruise with awe. 

“It’s unfortunate for your prince that I have been cast into the role of a hunter,” he murmured, words nearly swallowed by his men shouting. “But I’m a fisherman by heart. I am very good at waiting. And with using bait.” He stood up and began issuing orders. Rey strained to hear but the officer nodded at the man holding her. There was a sharp report, stars exploding behind her eyes, and Rey fell into darkness. 

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

_ Day 4  _

Her lips were parched, her body aching, skin stretched too tight and every part of her burned, as if supernovas exploded in every vein. She struggled, throat convulsing around a scream and caught the image at the corner of her eyes--her arm wound green and gangrenous. A doctor had launched himself into the wagon with her, poking at her, ignoring her hisses. Heat rolled through her in a wave and she shivered. 

“Infection,” the doctor pronounced and he pulled out a vial of the wiggling worms she hated so much. Maggots. The doctor was telling her that they would clean her wound. She tried to struggle, breath catching, throat burning. He poured poppy juice and something sharp smelling down her throat. Rey found that she couldn’t move and she stared up at the bright afternoon sky, the forest fading and thin. They were heading west. Away from Mandalore. Toward Tatooine. 

Her eyelids fluttered and she closed them. Just for a moment, she told herself. Just until she gathered her strength. 

  
  


_ Day Unknown  _

The next time Rey opened her eyes, she was in a soft bed in a tent. A cool breeze, a hint of winter, ruffled her hair and she scrubbed her eyes, inhaling sharply at the ache settling between the knobs of her spine. She struggled to sit up, propping herself on her elbows, when the flap opened and a vaguely familiar face strode in, a bag in his hand. 

“Ah, you’re awake,” he greeted without preamble. “I timed that medication perfectly.” He paused, preening, almost as if waiting for her praise. She blinked up at him, uncertain and unwilling to offer anything other than a blank face. She wondered why the First Order would bother treating her when they were surely just going to torture her later, trot her out as an example of rebel scum. 

A woman entered, bearing a bundle under one arm and a tray. Rey’s stomach grumbled and here she did have the grace to look embarrassed. The doctor looked pleased. 

“Good, good,” he mumbled, as he sat next to her, peering through small spectacles at her arm. Rey was almost afraid to see herself but, shoving the steel that she called courage forward, she bent her neck. The maggots were gone, to her relief, and the doctor was smearing a cooling salve on her. 

“It’s going to scar so perhaps your style of ball gown will need to change,” he said perfunctorily. “Nearly lost you there. You were out for three days.”

“Three days?!” The yelp came unbidden, her eyes widening, fingers digging into the sheets. Three days--they had missed their deadline. She wondered where Ben was, what Mandalore was doing, what would happen to her now that she failed her mission. If Mandalore would turn to the First Order. She swallowed and the doctor handed her a steaming mug from the tray. He prodded at her with it and she took it, fingers nearly numb, the warmth barely penetrating the fog smothering her mind.

“If she’s well enough, the general would like a word with her,” the woman said, placing the bundle on the bedside table. “Can she dress herself or do I need to stay?”

“I can handle myself.” Rey knew she was too sharp but she didn’t stop the glare over the rim of her glass. The woman snorted and bustled out. The doctor frowned at her as he wrapped the gauze around her wound. He promised to send an escort in a few minutes and left after informing her that the wound would need to be tended to again for the next couple of days to ensure no reinfection occurred.

“That means no fighting. Your muscles tore,” he cautioned as he left. Rey stuck her tongue out of him and gingerly swung her legs over the bed’s edge, groaning as her muscles protested every movement. She may have been a bit hasty in dismissing the woman, she thought ruefully, as she gripped the table and hauled herself up, whimpering as bursts of pain crabbed along her body. Unused to moving, still healing from the fights and the climbing, she knew she had to take a few moments to adjust herself. Taking a few deep breaths, Rey centered herself and did a few stretches, breathing warm air and leaning forward, pulling on her hamstrings, reaching for the sky, dropping to all floors and arching her back. 

By the time she was done, she felt more limber, the aches receding to dull reminders. She reached for the bundle of clothes and sighed when she unfurled them. It took a few moments of struggling to work herself into the gown. She was adjusting her ties when the woman came back and gave her a hard look. Rey’s cheeks grew warm and she gave a slight cough. The woman shook her head and finished getting Rey ready, plaiting her hair, before leading her out into the First Order camp, into the late afternoon sun, bathing all the tents and the men in a warm glow. 

The First Order, to the credit of their name, kept a very orderly camp. Rey followed the woman through the camp, gaze roving over the large camp--the white and black tents, the neat lines, the horses, the sense that the First Order had been here a long time. She lifted the hem of her long crimson gown, edged in midnight black silk, the collar cutting across her chest to reveal tanned shoulders crossed with scars. At long last they arrived at a large, open air tent, where a long table was covered with a magnificent spread. Pryde sat at one end, reviewing his correspondence, when Rey was brought before him.

He raised one finger, muttering under his breath, as he finished his letter. Rey pursed her lips but allowed herself to continue to take in the camp all while her mind raced, trying to pick apart what farce Pryde was playing at. 

“Miss Niima, please sit,” he said at last, gesturing toward a chair. 

“It’s Sergeant Niima, actually,” Rey shot back and Pryde inclined his head, apologizing for his error. 

“Only a sergeant? I’d imagine you’d be a lieutenant now,” he said, all smiles, shark teeth, scenting for blood in the water. But her lack of advancement meant little to her now that she knew why and Rey returned her smile as she took her seat to the right of him. He sat at the head of his table and she stared ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.

“I’m glad to see that you have made a full recovery.”

“No fun torturing the weak, I suppose,” Rey said, eyeing the empty plate in front of her. She noticed there was no knife, merely a spoon and a fork and she held back the snort that threatened to erupt. A servant came over and poured them both a measure of wine. Pryde lifted up his glass--cut crystal, lined with gold, an utter foppish luxury in a war camp. 

“What shall we toast?” he mused and Rey ran her tongue over her teeth. “Oh, I know. The upcoming nuptials!” He raised his glass toward her and she ungraciously picked up her own. “To the wedding of Princess A’dlena and Prince Benjamin Solo!” Rey gripped her glass so tightly she swore she heard the stem groan. Instead she pasted a smile on her face and placidly clinked her wine against Pryde’s, an approximation of all of the state dinners she had been forced to attend. Pryde stared at her before taking a deep swallow of wine. Rey left hers untouched. 

“So it seems like he made it,” she remarked and Pryde snorted. 

“It’s no matter. At this point, it's only a matter of time before the First Order defeats Alderaan and her enemies. You don’t have the resources. After all, how is it that my men were so easily able to infiltrate Alderaan or Endor? Poor guarding, Niima.” She lifted her chin, imaging herself as coated in ice, unable to move a muscle. A servant began milling around the table, ladling roasted potatoes and thick cuts of meat on to plates. She watched as Pryde sliced a corner, juices spilling out, before taking a dainty bite. She tried not to sniff in disdain. 

“Why am I here?” she asked. 

Pryde appeared to be confused, eyes blown wide, head cocking to the side. “To enjoy a fine repast. A worthy opponent as yourself deserves a delicious meal.”

“Before my execution?” 

Pryde chuckled, placing his fork on his plate and taking a drag of wine. He raised his brow at her, mirth dancing along every line and she curled her hands under the table. 

“By now, my courier will have reached Alderaan. It’s simple at this point. I will trade you for Hux.”

Rey barked a harsh laugh. “They’ll never agree to that.” Pryde shrugged and continued digging into his meal, sliding meat into his mouth, and dabbing at his lips with lace. 

“Then I’ll send you to hard labor. Or something. I certainly don’t need another woman in my bed. And I find torture so tedious, don’t you?” He smiled at her then. “After all, you’ve already been in the torture chamber with Kylo Ren, excuse me, Ben Solo. Are you that eager for a return visit?” She turned away from his leer. 

“Or perhaps we’ll simply hang you. Leave you as a warning that we don’t treatise with rebel scum.” 

“You don’t own this world,” she seethed. Pryde snorted and was opening his mouth when a shout broke out. Dogs began braying and a sharp whinny broke the soft noise of the camp. Rey jerked her head toward the cry and Pryde leapt to his feet, shouting orders. Horsemen in bright colors crashed through the tents, men in First Order uniforms fleeing from the charges. Arrows flew through the air, bursting into flames as they struck the tents. Her heart rose to her throat and without thinking, she jumped up, fork in hand, jabbing it into Pryde’s neck. He cried out, back handing her and she stumbled back, snatching the lacy napkin he left on the table. And his knife. 

Pryde turned to snarl at her when she sank the knife into his eye. A scream sliced through the air and she lassoed the napkin around him, pulling back, twisting tight, even as his nails scrabbled for her, dragging down her face, leaving bloody tracts in their wake. She kicked him in his knees, bracing as he fell forward, yanking and turning, cloth digging trenches into his throat, watching his face slowly bleed into purple. He heaved against her and she planted her feet, arms trembling as he struggled against her in vain.

It was one, two, three beats and his arms began to droop. Her blood pounded in her ears and her body began to protest how hard she strained against him. She was drawing in large gasps of air when she let go and watched him crumple to the ground. Still alive, but out of the fight. She looked around her, at the flames licking up trees, at the bodies draped across the ground, their eyes forever unseeing. She longed for her blade.

At that moment, a horse trotted closer, an armored warrior on its back. A sword was aimed at her. 

“Don’t move,” the steely voice commanded from beneath a helmet. Another soldier raced forward and jerked her arms back, securing them tightly. Hands began slapping her down for a weapon and she stared at the warrior on horseback. At the insignia on the shoulder shield. 

Mandalorian. 

He had come, she thought, dimly. Or perhaps not. She shook her head, shoving out any thoughts of him, refusing to let herself linger on that hard press of lips, the tender course his finger traced down her face. It was the rush of the fight, that’s all, she told herself, as a soldier forced her to march through the carnage. Flames crackled around her, heat an insistent wave against her sore frame, a few soldiers organizing themselves to toss dirt and buckets of water. They strode out of the forest and into a plain, filled with another army. She bit back a cry as the soldier shoved her forward and into a cage with other First Order members.

“Please! I am not a First Order soldier! I am sergeant Rey Niima of the Alderaanian Forces!” The soldier’s head snapped up and she could feel a cool assessing gaze on her. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and hoped she looked as imposing as possible. After a moment, the soldier clicked a lock in place and returned to the camp. She slumped against the bars, watching the Mandalorians mill about, rushing back and forth, filling up cages, dragging bodies of comrades across the way. 

Night fell and the fires continued to rage. She slid to the floor, eyeing the rest of the people around her. Mostly young boys, soot streaked and frightened. The smell of piss clung to one young man, barely sixteen, and she tried not to shake her head. The spoils of war never seemed as attractive as the reason for war. 

Finally, a cheer went up and a flag planted. Mandalore victorious. She sighed, head falling against the bars, wondering what would happen to her next. She didn’t notice the pleased cries. She didn’t see the crowd falling to their knees. She noticed the silence that cut through, the sudden drop in volume, the reverence that smeared the air. Rey turned her head to see two figures on noble horses, one snowy white, one as dark as night. 

The Prince and Princess. Princess A’dlena was an intimidating figure, Rey realized. She sat tall on her horse, her silver armor gleaming with echoes of the firelight, her blonde hair in a tight braid circling her head. Her hand rested on a sword with the practice of one comfortable using it. Rey swallowed as she took in the figure beside her. Ben Solo with his dark hair waving from his face and touching his shoulders. His features serene, his gaze evaluating, as it swept over the crowd. 

Until they landed on her and she saw the spark. Her heart rammed itself against its cage and her knuckles ached from how tightly she grasped the bars. Ben leaned over to the Princess and made a gesture. The Princess barked an order and a soldier hustled over to the cage, fumbling with the lock, before snapping an iron grip around her arm and hauling Rey out. She couldn’t stop the sharp yelp as his fingers dug into her wound. 

She was half dragged to Ben and his Princess and thrown before them. She pushed herself up, grimacing at the throbbing in her arm, and knelt before them.

“Your highnesses,” she whispered, wondering if her words would even be heard. 

“Rise, Rey of Niima,” the Princess said. Rey did as bid, keeping her head bent. “We are aware of what you have done to bring the Prince to us. And we are grateful. You will return with us to the royal quarters. After all, I cannot leave my Prince without his bodyguard.” Rey’s chin wobbled and she refused to meet their eyes, knowing hers were wet with some emotion she could not name. 

“Have you seen Pryde?” Ben demanded. She swallowed thickly, gripping her dress tightly, even as she kept her head bent. She related the events in the tent after Mandalore attacked and Ben ordered someone to locate Pryde and have him secured. With that, he ordered his horse about and Rey fell in line, as always. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. INTERLUDE

_ One Year Earlier  _

Fort Corellia perched on the edge of the ocean, rolling wild and dark, a wine dark sea that stretched as far as the eye could see, white foam churning as it crashed into the cliffs. The fortress itself was made of chunky black stone, coated with moss, often gleaming with ocean spray. Rey lifted her face to the sky and sighed as the cold droplets kissed her desert parched skin. 

Her time in Jakku had revealed her to be worn thin, the edges of her personality run ragged, so that she had become nothing more than Skywalker’s automaton. He told her it was good for her. That she would no longer bolt out of bed in the middle of sleep, sweat stoked and panicked, hand flailing for her dagger. No longer be haunted by dark figure stalking her into the forest, rendering her immobile, frozen, snow whirling between them to reveal a shattered, jagged mask and those eyes.

Brown and terrified and human. 

She took a deep breath of the cutting salty breeze and took in the sea, bathed cold and silver from the moon, wisps drifting in front, casting her into shadows. Lightning threatened at the horizon, a promise of what morning would bring. She was here for a few days to collect her orders and then she could move on, away from the dreams which followed her, dogged and true, as if she had discovered something hidden that night in the forest. 

Rey frowned. There was a ship docked below. That wasn’t unusual; but what was unusual was the amount of activity. The tide was rushing in and yet men moved crates out into the ship, which listed dangerously in the rising swells. 

There was a clatter at the door down the stairs from her. She looked down and saw a column of men hurrying out. And then him. 

Her breath caught in her throat. 

Kylo Ren stood half lit by the light behind him. And to her surprise, the Consort appeared, craggy face drawn tighter. He patted Kylo on the shoulder, his voice lost in the booming of the sea. Rey gripped the wall in front of her, blinking at the sudden rush of water on her face. Kylo bowed his head and the Consort lay a hand on his helmet, as if giving a blessing. And then withdrew, Rey’s mind torn, broken. A cloud drifted in front of the moon, plunging her into darkness. 

She had no idea what to do with what she had just seen. It did not fit whatever story she had been told. Kylo’s stillness did not fit the rage, the utter dervish of fury she had experienced in the forest. She inhaled sharply and he looked up. She froze, wishing she could sink into the shadows, never be acknowledged, a whistle of the wind between the castle’s foundations. The cloud parted and Kylo’s head tilted. 

“You made it,” was his curt greeting. “I wasn’t sure from how you fled the forest if you knew your way home.”

Rey shook. “As if you care.” The hiss was stolen by the rush of the ocean, the force of its slap against the rocks below. A cry came up from the ship. Her lip trembled and she looked away, over the sea. He must be carrying messages, she thought. He must be a traitor. For us. She thought of how easily he struck down Finn, sword slicing through muscle and sinew and blood and bone. Her joints ached from how tightly she held them, her mind going fuzzy from her shallow breaths, chest heaving. 

Kylo held up his hands. “I don’t want to fight you, Rey.’

“You’re a traitor.” She was harsh and snarling, a corned creature.

“Perhaps,” he said. He paused and looked out to the sea. “But one day, war will end. And we’ll all have to find ourselves, to pick up the pieces of these war forged lives that we have created and see if we can fit them into peace.” He approached the wall, midnight gloved hands resting on the parapet, nearly lost in the gloss. “Even you.”

She shuddered and turned away, licking the salt on her lips. Waves crashed, spray rose, and she leaned into its cold cleansing breath. She wanted to fall below, to let the ocean pummel into the stones, stripping her of this persona she wore, leaving only Rey behind. 

“I feel so alone.” The words were out before she could stop them and she let out a little sigh. She heard Kylo take two steps toward her and she shrank from him. 

“You’re not alone.” She blinked at him, wondering if she heard him correctly. 

She wondered what drove her to say: “Neither are you.” They stared at each other, his face hidden to her, those expressive dark eyes that had stayed her hand. She wondered if he were laughing at her behind his visor. He held out his hand to her and she hesitated, hand wavering, before taking it. He was surprisingly warm beneath the glove. 

“People want to know you. And will stand beside you as you find your way in this brave new world,” he told her. He squeezed her hand and her chest hitched, something balmy breezed through her, from one heartbeat to the next. He let go and her hand hung in the air a moment longer, as if caressing the echo of warmth in the air. He gave a nod, turned, and hurried down the stairs. 

And Rey was left shivering in the sea, hand curled to her chest, clutching the last vestiges of warmth she knew for many months to come. 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

_ Present Day  _

Ben’s tent in camp was spacious, at least three times the size of anyone else’s. A desk sat in one corner, strewn with papers and maps. His bed, a true bed, not just a simple bed roll, took up the center of the room. A few chairs clustered around his desk, as if he had held a meeting before riding out. Rey stood, hands fisting her dress, nibbling her lip, as she was ordered to follow Ben into his tent. The Princess, it seemed, had her own quarters. 

He turned about the tent, lighting a few more lanterns, before pulling off his riding gloves and facing her, lips rubbing together. Silence hung thick between them and she remembered his boldness in Corellia. Her palm burned. 

“It seems as if congratulations are in order, your highness,” she said. Ben winced. 

“Don’t...don’t call me that. And its preliminary, at best,” he said, sinking heavily into a chair, resting his face in his hands. She fidgeted, unsure of what he wanted from her. 

“Shall I find the sergeant of arms and report? What about Alderaan? Pryde said a courier had been sent…” she trailed off as Ben’s hands dropped and he looked at her. His gaze was hard, almost in disbelief. 

“Rey,” he choked out, voice breaking on her name. “I kissed you before I left and all you can offer is congratulations and tactics?” She shifted on her feet, unsure of what he wanted from her. He caught her biting her lip and let out a half strangled laugh. “What a mess.”

“One you made.”

Ben held up a finger. “That is undoubtedly true. But I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Rey bowed. “I’m sorry I failed at seeing you safely to Mandalore. But I am pleased to see that you made the journey successfully.” He huffed loudly, jumping up and pacing in front of her. She pressed onward: “And now that you are here, I am requesting to return home.” He froze, snapping his head toward her. 

“Home?” 

She sniffed, all too aware of how her palms were sweating and that her legs were trembling. Her lips burned as if the kiss had seared her flesh and that she could never know peace there again. 

“I am a sergeant in the Alderaan army. That is where I belong.”

Ben snarled at her. “You belong here with me. You were chosen for this mission so that I could convince you to stay as my bodyguard.” Rey balked at his words. The thought of such a conversion--she nearly shuddered at how visceral her reaction would have been before the confession at the waterfall. She would have leapt at the chance. The Prince had come off as charming and kind and engaging. But the man before her now had her enemy and then had kissed her as if the only thing keeping him alive was her. 

“I...that seems untenable,” she finally whispered and he shook his head. 

“No! No, you’re still holding on!”

“I’m holding on?! How would this work Ben? I remember how tender you were--are you going to bed me when you aren’t with her? Or am I to pine for you all the time?” They were circling each other now, fists half curled. Rey’s blood sang in her ears, as if she were ready to pounce, her energy coiled. This was the tattoo her heart beat before battle and she longed to leap at him, to scratch his face, to drive her fist into it. 

Ben clenched his fists but Rey pressed on: “No, I am being serious, Ben.” She drew his name out, building the sneer into it. “What did you think was going to happen here?”

“I don’t know! I never know!” It exploded out of him, black and ugly and vicious, his eyes so full of longing that it was a splash of ice on her simmering anger. She shuddered but refused to back down. 

“I only know that I feel more myself with you than with anyone.” It was nearly swallowed by the cheers outside, his cheek twitching, his eyes those soft, sad, human, terrified eyes that she remembered from the forest, when he lay at the mercy of her blade. She gasped and he crossed the room with two impossibly long strides, crushing her to him, his mouth hard and seeking. She could not deny him, angry at how she leaned into him, how her eyes pricked with tears.

It was an impossible dream. 

“I know it’s something we shouldn’t have,” he told her, lips blazing a trail across her freckled nose, thumb wiping at her tears. “But why can’t we, Rey? We were going to find each other in this brave new world. Why shouldn’t we?” Rey sobbed into his throat even as she tentatively tasted him, sweat and warm and safe. Loved. Beloved. 

“It could damage Alderaan,” she managed to get out between kisses that send shivers down her spine, that expand her wanting into dangerous territories that she knew that she should not venture into. 

“Damn Alderaan,” he murmured, thumb sweeping her cheek, cradling her face, as if she were precious. She could believe it in that dim tent, the sounds of celebration swelling around them. “I gave them so much already. I went undercover in the First Order for years. I nearly lost myself. I want happiness. I want it with you.” She couldn’t stop the sob if she wanted and she saw his eyes widened, how he clutched her to him. Cherished. Desired. Wanted. 

More than just an outsider to an army to whom she had pledged her life. More than just the fighter who could hold back Kylo Ren. More than just one more political pawn. More than just another statistic to wave about to showcase Alderaan’s generosity. She saw him revere that sob, swore he committed to his memory, stamped indelibly on his heart. 

“We’ll ruin everything,” tears nearly swallowing her words. He held her tight to him, rocking together, fingers threading through her hair. 

“We’ll figure it out. I promise. Just stay with me, Rey.” She nodded, unable to speak, and he pulled her back for a soft kiss that seared every nerve, every cell, every atom that made a part of her. 

“I promise.”


	8. Chapter 8

Rey had just stepped away from Ben, to gather her wits and her breath, when the tent flapped open and the Princess strode in. Behind her, two knights trailed, both tall and raven haired and broad shouldered. Their weapons were vicious and deadly and they walked as if they were poised to fight. She could respect that, she reflected. 

“Well? Did she accept?” The Princess said breathlessly, offering a dazzling smile. Rey, remembering her manners, bent into a hasty curtsy that had the Princess tutting her. “Not here, please. And not for someone who brought down Pryde. And helped save our ally.” As Rey lifted her head she noticed the flicker between Ben and the Princess. She wondered what it all meant and why they both seemed tentative and unsure. 

“Yes, she did. She will return with me to Mandalore and serve as head of my guards.” 

“Excellent!” The Princess clapped. She made a waving motion and a knight stepped away from her to poke his head outside. A moment later, a woman entered, bearing a bundle. “We have a uniform here for you. And your tent is just outside.” She beamed expectantly and Rey offered her thanks, claiming the clothes, and with another bow, she left. To her surprise, one of the knights peeled off and followed her. Her tent was a smaller affair, with a simple cot with an array of weapons laying on it. 

“I wasn’t sure what you preferred to fight with,” the knight began without preamble. “His highness said you preferred the quarterstaff so we brought one for you.” He pointed to the corner and Rey walked forward, picking it up, weighing its hefty, and giving it an experimental twirl. It fit easily in her hand, cutting through the air. She put it down and smiled. 

“Thank you. This is wonderful work.” The knight nodded and moved to pick up the sabre on the bed. His dark hair hung in hanks in his eyes and he batted it away irritated. She bit back a smile. 

“You could always tie it back.”

“I do, when in battle,” he replied. “I believe your Prince does too.” Rey bit her lip and then nodded, hoping the silence hid the lie. She had seen Ben fight in the burning forest, his hair clinging to him, dripping in sweat. But other than that, she wasn’t sure how he fought. Except ferociously. 

“I’m Tam. I’m the head of her highness’s bodyguards.” He handed her the sabre. “I chose this one for you. They said you knew how to use one.” Rey wrapped her fingers around the silver handle. The bell guard was curved with the Alderaan crest etched into it. She lifted the blade and snapped into the honor pose before whipping the sword down. It whistles through the air, the blade whip strong and fast. It was the perfect weight and she spent a few moments gushing over it to Tam. 

He nodded and began to back away. “I’ll leave you to change. I will expect you at her highness’s tent in a few moments. She will be presiding over an official announcement.” He left quickly and Rey cocked her head, watching him walk. The similarities between him and Ben were startling. Tam’s face was less broad, smaller, with soft grey eyes, and a slim nose. But still...she shrugged. Some people have a type, she thought. And slipped on the new uniform.

Grey leggings with knee high boots. A maroon shirt, loose and light, over which she layered the dark blue short sleeved tunic, trimmed in silver. Mandalore and Alderaan’s colors together, she thought, as she strapped on the sword. She added a few knives to her boots and wrist guards and felt as if she were ready as if she ever could be. 

And that night, she stood behind Ben, watching the crowd, blushing as she was called captain and given honor. A whole flight of people under her command. Ben winked at her before he turned to the Princess and toasted the troops together. She expected Ben to stay with the Princess. But as the celebrations wound down, the Princess retired, stealing away with Tam. And Rey crossed the field, Ben by her side. 

Ben who crept into her tent and shuttered the lamp and kissed her tenderly and slowly. Ben who held her tight to him as he loosened her sword, letting it fall to the ground. Ben who pushed her tunic off and cupped her breasts as if they were lovely, sweet things. 

“This is dangerous,” she told him. He silenced her with a kiss, pushing her down on the bed, laying routes with his mouth between her breasts, down her navel, and to her trousers. 

“So are these,” he murmured, rolling them down, lips following fabric and Rey bit back a moan as he discovered the back of her knees. He gave a wicked grin, fingers ghosting along her thighs, as he trekked northward. She shivered. They hadn’t discussed what would happen next between them. She thought she should stop him and then he licked her core. 

A sharp tipped whimper escaped her and Rey jammed her fit in her mouth. She heard the soft rustling voices outside, slurred shouts of men too pleased to sleep. Clever fingers slid along her slick skin and she slammed her eyes shut. How did he know how to be clever, she thought, as broad shoulders knocked her knees apart. A pop of the coal in her bazier and she shivered as he seemed determined to render her a weeping, sopping mess. Whatever breaths she was capable of were rendered merely ragged, nostrils flaring, as she struggled to contain the cries backpiling in her throat. 

“Sing for me, Rey,” Ben whispered, stubble dragging against her thigh and thrumming heat up her spine. 

“We’ll be heard.” She barely recognized the breathy high thing as her voice. Ben’s eyes lit up and he continued his course, gripping her knee hard before one finger slid inside. She gasped, unable to stop herself. 

Boots squelched to a stop outside. “You alright in there Captain Niima?” 

Rey forced herself to shove Ben’s head away from her, palm flat on his forehead as she called: “Yes, sorry. Forgot how cold it gets at night.” 

“Do you need help with your brazier? Or a bed warming?” The man’s voice turned dark at the end and Ben’s eyes narrowed. Rey shook her head. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” The boots moved away and Rey sighed, slumping in the bed. She pushed Ben back, her thighs quivering, her body aching for the high it had been denied. Disappointment tightened the skin around Ben’s mouth as she leaned over into her pillow. 

“It’s too risky here,” she whispered. He pressed his lips together before shooting toward her, soft lips, lazy lips on hers, even as a hot palm traveled up her leg. She heard the apology in the kiss and smiled into it. 

“We’ll have time,” he swore as he rose, shaking his legs out as if remembering how to get his blood circulating. He helped Rey into a sleep shirt before propping her staff up by the head of her bed. Her eyes were drooping, sleep stealing over her, as he planted a kiss on her forehead, scooping her hair back, and then allowed the darkness to swallow him. 

  
  


The next few days were swallowed by work. Rey trailed Tam as he explained guarding procedures at the Palace. They sparred in the muddy field as the rest of camp was disbanded and she was pleased to see that she was more than his equal with the staff and a tad slower with the blade. And then began the interminable ride back to Mandalore. Two long days in the saddle, riding near Ben, his hand accidentally grazing her knee, his gaze lasting a few seconds too long, his lips brushing her neck as he leaned over to brush off a tick. 

Rey was terrified that they would be discovered. 

She assumed it would lead to her death and perhaps Alderaan’s destruction. She watched Ben toss a joke at A’dlena who laughed prettily, blonde hair luminous in the watery sun light. Ben rode next to A’dlena, both resplendent in finery--thick velvet tunics and draping fabrics, their faces fresh and bright. Rey rode at his left flank, feeling worn thin, constantly scanning the area as she attempted to protect him from outsiders. Her small troop was sprinkled throughout and Tam was her equal on the other side of the column, one hand on his hilt, the other holding the reins. They were blessed with cool and cloudy weather as they crossed into the steppe that was Mandalore. And in the distance, glittering in the dying rays of the sun, was Sundari, its capital. A river barred their entrance, muddy and slow, a dark slash against the wheat gold field. Beyond the city sat the snow capped mountains of Hoth, diamantine white, jagged teeth piercing the ceiling of the sky. 

“We’ll camp tonight and make way into Sundari tomorrow,” A’dlena declared and the troops burst into activity. Half the camp decided to ride ahead to prepare for their royal arrival, leaving a smaller component behind. Rey directed her men to set up a perimeter around the two royal tents, placed near one another. She supervised them for a few moments, pleased to see how quickly and thoroughly they worked before deciding to tramp into the forest and scout the terrain. The evening sun was fading quickly as clouds grew thicker, a promise of a gentle autumn rain. 

She moved silently and swiftly. The forest was a ragged collection of slim trees, bared branches reaching for the sky, as her feet moved quietly over the dead and decomposing palette of gold and green and red. She heard a pattering sound and blinked as rain splashed on her. Annoyed, she batted her eyes and turned around. A dark shape loomed in front of her and she gasped, fumbling before her sword. She was shoved into the tree and kissed, hard, teeth clacking, hands spidering her ribs and thumb brushing her nipples through damp fabric. 

“Ben!” she gasped into his mouth as he peppered firm kisses along the planes of her cheeks. “We could be seen.”

“We’re alone out here, Rey. I’ve been following you for a quarter mile. No one else is around.” He persistently worked his way down the column of her neck and she shivered as she arched up into him, palms scalding her, prickling heat skittering down her spine. 

“I will say,” he told her clavicle as he lapped the notch in her bones, “that I am disappointed that you didn’t hear me behind you.”

“Maybe I did...and I wanted this,” she said before nibbling the soft lobe of his ear. He groaned into her, the bark biting her flesh, his hips grinding her stomach. Their grappling was rough and hurried and they broke apart as they rain tipped from a sprinkle into a steady slog. She was red cheeked, heart slamming into her rib cage, and he shifted his weight, adjusting himself, obviously tipped away from satisfaction. 

He wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her toward him for a kiss. 

“Soon,” he promised. 


	9. Chapter 9

The benefit of being in charge of Ben’s guard was that her room was tucked away next to his, tiny, almost unnoticeable. A small cot, an office area off to the side with the expectation that her work would be him. How little they knew, she thought, as evening fell. 

It was her third night in the palace and she was becoming adjusted to the rhythm of it. Rising before dawn to find Ben awake, perusing correspondence. He would chat with her as she grumbled awake with a hot cup of caf. He would be later dressed by his master of wardrobe while she checked his rooms, his clothes, his armor. She would breakfast with him before attending meetings. She was his shade as he maneuvered through the halls. Rey and Tam would exchange quick looks as they sank into the shadows during dinner service before hastily gulping down their own. She would have time for sparring and practice in the afternoon which was when she decided to hold her own briefing. 

She drew up the schedule for the other men in her detail. And then in the night, when the castle began to develop its hush, she would use the secret passage between her room and his--designed perfectly for his safety, Tam had told her, known only to him and her now, and Rey suspected the royal family--and Ben would be waiting for her. 

The first night they had collapsed, apart, fingertips brushing as Ben’s chamberlain ushered him away. The same on the second night as she had been rushed to a meeting of the guard and had wearily listened to the guards bickering over the true threat of the First Order. 

The third night, he had beckoned her into his large bath, steam obscuring every mirror. Rey had checked through the room, ensuring all doors were locked, that they were completely alone. She stood in the bathroom, staff in her hand, watching Ben duck under the water and emerge, water beading along his neck. Her breath stopped and he turned, a hesitant smile on his face. 

“Are we alone?” he asked, voice nearly lost in the fog, in the steam pipes groaning. She nodded, her own voice lost in the vice like grip her muscles had in her throat. He beckoned her forward. “Disrobe, Rey.” He leaned back, staring up at her, and she licked her lips. 

“You had said we would be making our new world together. Is this...is this part of it?” 

He tilted his head, eyes dark and hooded. “This is two people, who have given everything to everyone else, finding joy in one another.” Her legs trembled and she thought about his fevered kisses in the forest. In the adoration in his tent as he began to tenderly map her thighs. He had told her that she wasn’t alone. She sucked on her bottom lip before shucking her clothes and stepping into the tub, trying not to think about the consequences of whatever she was doing. 

She stared straight ahead, sitting with her back flush to his front as he ran the sponge along her sweat flecked skin, tendrils clinging to her neck. He kissed every inch of her collarbones, he learned the curve of her neck, his fingers broke her defenses, delicately sliding between slippery folds to render her a mewling, sobbing mess, turning away to moan into the curtain of his hair. 

She clumsily took him in her hand, ducking her face, unsure of what to do. One large hand had enveloped her, his hand tight, eyes squeezed shut, exhaling forcefully as he showed her how to pump and glide. His knuckles turned white as he groped the edge of the copper tub and Rey felt reckless when she bent forward to swipe her tongue along his cock’s head. He groaned, her name a curse on his mouth, and she caught a face full of white spend, rubbing it along her jaw, Ben shaking in her hands. 

He kissed her thoroughly and sweetly and she didn’t want to leave him, clinging to him, damp dressing gowns sticking to skin, his hands travelling her frame as if to seek a grip to sink himself into her. 

There was a knock on the door. Rey froze and Ben pushed her away, cinching his gown before answering it. She hastily dressed and exited, water dripping onto her clothes as she slid through the shadows and into her room. She could hear Ben’s voice with A’dlena’s and wondered what they had to speak about so late in the evening. A soft girlish laugh followed her into the room as she snicked the door shut and buried intoo her mind as she stretched out on her cot. 

The next morning, Rey dressed in the dark, her sleepless night thick behind her eyes. The sun had yet to clear the mountains, the sky a kiss of violet as she entered Ben’s room. She turned to shut her door when she was slammed into the wall. She shrieked, a hand clapping over her mouth, and she shoved her body back. Something heavier and larger pressed into her, a mouth nuzzling her ear.

“I’ve been waiting for you all morning,” Ben whispered and Rey froze, before her tongue darted out to lick his hand. He wiggled his fingers and moaned lowly, sliding his thumb into her mouth. Brows raised, Rey began to suck, breath hitching as Ben rolled his hips into her, one hand gliding over her hips to pull at her trouser band and slither inside, his calloused finger rolling against her sensitive bundle of nerves. She turned her face toward his, up, eyes lifting, mouth skimming the stubble along his jaw as heat frissoned up her spine. His finger slipped inside of her and she gasped, scrabbling for purchase, hips bucking down, anywhere, seeking that snap release of pleasure. He barely had time to clap his hand over her mouth before she wailed, her orgasm ripping through her, leaving her limp and sated and all too willing to sink to her knees to figure out what happened last night. 

Each day begins with hurried kisses and clandestine fumblings. She grew adept with her mouth and nimble fingers. He became enchanted with pulling down her tunic to lap and suck her breasts, his hand coaxing her along to sigh sinfully into his hair. Then they part. She was his shadow. He charmed courtiers. He danced with A’dlena. He reviewed the security for the upcoming ball announcing his nuptials. 

And at night, he tossed Rey on his bed to ravage her fully, to slide fully seated within her, her body straining to accommodate him, sure he’d tear her apart. With slow, whimpering coaxing kisses, he moved within her until she was clawing at him, desperate for release, her need hitching higher. She discovered why the poets sang epics about this, why men looked for it, why women yearned for it. She found comfort and warmth and desire in his arms. And again in the morning, when he sat her upon him, the sun kissing the dusky tips of her nipples, and she rode him to their silent release. 

Rey knew this couldn’t go on much longer. No matter how careful they were, they would be caught. It was inevitable. And each time he pulled out of her at the last moment, fist jerking his cock as he spilled all over her, she knew it was because she wasn’t his wife. His partner. Nothing so stable or so certain. Only his mistress. She turned away from him as he kissed her that evening. 

“What am I to you?” she demanded. He held a finger up to his mouth, urging silence. 

“Not now. The chamberlain is here. Later.” 

“You have a meeting later,” she groused even as she accepted it. But as she followed him down the corridor, bright and golden, women in their gossamer gowns, their glittering jewels, staring at him from behind their hands, she knew this was impossible. She couldn’t imagine sharing him. How would this look? He would bed A’dlena until she was child and then return to her? The corridor seemed to be narrowing, her breath trapped in her throat. Rey tapped another guard to watch Ben before fleeing. She hurried down the twisting servants' stairways, boots clattering loudly until she flung herself out into the side courtyard. 

It was quiet here. Twilight was settling, the sky marbling peach and azure, birds chirping to return to the nest. She was in a small garden, she realized, and began to travel the winding pathways, hedges high, creating a secret hidden world. She paused to smell the bright purple flowers and realized that she had barely taken the time to explore the castle. She had followed Ben from chamber to chamber without studying the full layout. Rey frowned at herself, her boots crunching on gravel, as strains of music began to fill the air. The celebration must be beginning, she thought idly, arriving at the center of the garden where a small fountain sat. It was dry now, no longer running as nights and morning were icy cold. Soon the flowers on the vines would be dead, the ground littered with their corpses, an ocean cold cloak settling over the land. 

She sat on the marbled bench, fingering her collar. Just underneath sat a purpling mark of Ben’s affection. She sighed, hands folding on her lap. She knew he cared for her. But she didn’t understand what it meant for them. She was a simple, silly girl, she thought viciously. She couldn’t even figure out that they were being offered up as sacrifices, that Ben himself was a pawn in some terrible game that she was too stupid to understand. Rey shook her head, shoving the cruel voice out of her head, bunching the edge of her tunic. 

She felt adrift. Rudderless. She listlessly wondered what brave new world Kylo was thinking of when he spoke to her on Corellia’s shore. She wondered what he was thinking of her when he said it--if he imagined them falling into bed together. Rey licked her lips and tried to imagine a new life for her. She fell into daydreams--a little cottage by the sea, warm and safe, a plot of land to farm. So much green. So much food. And maybe love. Just maybe. 

Time passed quickly while Rey was lost inside her head and it was a cool breeze chittering along her ankles that her jerking out of her reverie. Shaking her head and cursing herself, full night now fallen, Rey stood up and shook out her legs. She promised herself a walk around the castle to clear her head. None of her daydreams had provided her with a solution, she realized with a sad twinge. Just as trapped as she was before. She kicked at some gavel and paused at the sound of heavy breathing. 

She was not the only one in the gardens. 

Wondering who it was, Rey crept along the edges, softening her footfalls, listening to the breathing grow louder, pitching higher, an unfurling of desire that Rey recognized from her own mouth this morning. She silently tread until she could hear clothes rustling and swiftly peeked around the corner. 

Her heart froze. 

On a marble bench, much like the one Rey had been ruminating on, was Princess A’dlena, her skirts rucked around her waist, her mouth twisted in pleasure, her nails scoring the arms of a tall man, broad shoulders, black hair curtaining his features. The only thing distinguishable was that unforgotten sharp profile of a nose. 

Rey gasped. They froze. 

And she fled. 

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Time seemed to slow as Rey raced to her room. She slammed the door shut and scurried over to the secret door between her and Ben’s. She slid the lock closed. She couldn’t be near him, she knew, breathing in hot sharp gasps, her hands trembling.

She had given him so much. And he had taken it. Taken everything. She punched the wall, voice shredded, as pain lanced through her. She had trusted him so much. Just another pawn, she thought bitterly, cradling her bleeding aching hand to her chest. The sob tore from her before she could stop and she hiccupped, pushing them back, even as salty tears carved tracks into her cheeks. 

Rey had given Kylo too many tears already. She didn’t know how much more she had. 

There was a flurry of voices outside and she bit her lip, focusing on her breathing, trying to calm herself. She should leave. Rey hastily stood up and began rummaging through her scant wardrobe, wondering what she was allowed to take for herself. As she began to shove clothes into a bag, there was a pounding on the door between her and Ben’s room.

“Rey! Rey! Rey, open up!” Rey sneered at the door. As if she’d ever take an order from him again. No, she had learned her lesson. Trust was too easily given, she thought, solidifying her determination. Nails scoured her palms as she held herself from answering the door, pain and anguish vibrating her lanky frame. 

Silence. And then another, softer voice. “Rey this is the Princess. And I am ordering you to open the door. Before I order it removed.” Stifling a sniffle, Rey stiffly crossed the room and unlocked the door between her and Ben’s rooms. She mustered all of her dignity, wrapping it around her like a cloak, and opened the door to reveal A’dlena, Ben, and Tam. Ben’s face was pinched tight and his eyes immediately shoot to her hand. He reached for her and she skittered back. 

“No.” It was a hoarse, broken sound and she licked her lips, eyes darting between the trio. 

“Rey, A’dlena told me what you saw,” he began and she held up her hand. 

“I don’t want excuses. I merely want Her Highness’ permission to leave the service.” A’dlena looked up at Ben and Tam sighed, pitching forward into the room. Rey moved back again, realizing how tall he was. He never seemed as towering as he did in that moment, his black locks sweeping his shoulders as he grasped his sword, shoulders squaring off to face her. 

“It was not Ben and A’dlena that you saw out there. It was me,” he said crisply and Rey huffed, shaking her head, anger batting at her. She glared at the two royals, A’dlena’s shining eyes fastening on Tam’s, arms curling around her waist. 

“Is this what you do now? Have servants take your downfall?” 

“It’s true!” A’dlena blurted, pitching forward. Tam’s hand shot forward and stopped her, pulling her to him, curling around her as if protecting her from cruel, buffering winds. Her honeyed hair was stark against his grim dark crumpled uniform and Rey swallowed, gaze cutting over to Ben, standing ramrod straight, his fists curled at his side. His face was blank, unreadable, flat. 

“Tam and I have been in love for a year now. I was told I needed to marry Ben. When I found out that he was in love with you, I thought maybe...we could live some half lives. Lives for our kingdom and then, behind closed doors, I could be with Tam. Ben could be with you.” She gave a crooked smile. “It was better than nothing. Our people would be safe and we could be with our loved ones.” 

Rey blinked rapidly, head swiveling quickly between the two. Ben’s lips were compressed, almost white, his scar a vibrant scarlet on fish belly skin. 

“You would...you would do that? That seems…” she trailed off, shaking her head. A’dlena gave a quiet hiccupping sigh, tears tucked in the corners of her eyes, and Tam cleared his throat. 

“Yes. A life half lived is better than one not lived at all. I would take whatever I can get with her.” His hand reached up and began stroking A’dlena’s hair, bending forward to drop a kiss on the top of her head. There was a quiet intimacy about them that spoke to shared secrets, stolen kisses, of friendship forged, of commitment renewed. Of trust. Rey blushed, suddenly aware of what Ben must be thinking. She looked over at him and his mask was still on, cold and forbidden. The place he retreated to become Kylo Ren. She hesitated and his eyes flickered toward her and then away. 

She exhaled before swallowing thickly. “Your secret is safe with me. But you’d think there’d be a better way…”

“Ben and I have been working on some solutions,” A’dlena said simply. “He had a few ideas that we were hoping to run by you and Tam. As both would require you to play your parts.” Rey bobbed her head and A’dlena swore her to secrecy. She departed, Ben trailing after her, leaving Tam and Rey alone. Rey cut back the sob that threatened to overwhelm her. Tam stepped closer to her.

“If you speak to him now, it might heal. Rather than fester,” he murmured before brushing past her, his princess’s shadow, always trailing, always protecting. Rey studied him watching her and thought it was pride in his eyes and now realized it was love. She wondered if people could discern from her. After a moment, they left and Rey stepped hesitantly into Ben’s apartments. He stood near the door, tall and foreboding, arms folded in front of him.

“Ben...I…” she began weakly before her voice cracked. He didn’t stir. “I didn’t know. It was dark and…”

“And you thought I was that type?” It was steel, cold and harsh, a blade slicing through any hope she had left. “You thought I would pour my heart out to you while bedding another?” He turned then and she saw his eyes, red rimmed, his cheek twitching with held back fury. Rey shook her head. 

“You were talking about having A’dlena’s child earlier! What else was I supposed to think? You were mentioning your future with her! I felt--” she caught herself, feeling her ears burn, eyes prickling with tears that wanted to shed. She curled her fists, her bruised and bleeding one protesting the movement. Ben snorted. 

“ I waited for you for over a year, Rey, never hoping, never daring. When I saw you at Corellia--”his voice caught and he looked skyward. Rey took a step forward and he held out a hand. “Don’t come near me.”

“Ben, please. How am I to know who to trust? Even your father used me!”

Ben steadily looked at her before closing his eyes, weary and lost. “You were supposed to trust me.” Rey crumbled, a sob eking out, before she turned away, tears coursing down her cheeks. Every defense she thought that had been broken before now shattered and her heart ached. She could marvel at that later, she thought, her heart sluggishly moving, as if it were truly a broken, bloodless thing. 

“I’ll speak to you in the morning,” he said. She opened her mouth to protest. “That’s an order.” Sucking on her lip, Rey nodded and left. As she closed the door, she thought she heard the sound of glass breaking. 

* * *

It was a sleepless night. The room was too hot, too staid, the sheets sticky and cloying. Rey opened the small window and stared down at the gardens, the mountains of Hoth gleaming under the moon. She watched the guards change as the sun began its inexorable climb, the mountains blooming pink. And she thought about the way to escape. About how Ben longed to be freed of both Kylo Ren and his own legacies. About how the palace was just another role. 

About how she could end them both. She thought of Pryde in the forest, his belittling and insults. She thought of Ben obscured by fire. But Ben would never hear her, she thought. Whatever they had between them was broken now. Perhaps never to be repaired. 

The next morning dawned, her eyes hot and gritty, her face sagging and worn. She stared at herself in the looking glass, at the limp hair, at the bruises under her eyes, and wondered how she would make it through the day. A cold splash of water and a bracing cup of caf braced her for the morning as Ben sat through his reports, his eyes seeing through her, gaze skating over her as if she did not truly exist. Her chest ached and her breaths came in short. 

That afternoon, he decided to spar in the courtyards. Rey followed him, walking along the ramparts. Craddock, one of her men, stood near Ben, both his squire and his guard. Ben made short work of the other knights, his blade flashing, feet shuffling rapidly across the courtyard, dust bustling around his boots. Rey leaned forward, staff heavy on her back. Outside of that night at the forest, she had never truly witnessed Kylo Ren in battle. She knew he was vicious, thinking of how brutal he was in the forest of Endor. But here, now, sparring, she watched his muscles bunching, his face sharp and determined. A parry and a dart and another knight receiving a mock killing blow to his gut. 

Ben made a snide comment that had the bystanders laughing, his words lost in the brisk breeze. Rey brushed her hair behind her ear and watched Tam approach him. The two men spoke and she realized how tall they were, Tam only an inch or so shorter. How fluid they both moved, their hair waving in the breeze. Ben had his pulled back and their noses, both hawkish, both prominent in their mien. 

They could be cousins, or brothers even. 

At that moment, Rey forgave herself. In the dark, in the silence except for the hushed gasping breaths, Tam could be easily confused for Ben. And as they began to move through their forms, fluid and fierce, an idea began to percolate. One that haunted her throughout the day, as Ben flashed a bright smile at all he greeted. All except her. She shoved down the pain. She could survive this separation, if she could give him peace. 

Before dawn the next day, she rose early and dressed quickly, slipping down the stairs and down to the Princess’s apartments and knocked quietly on Tam’s door. He let her in without preamble and ushered her into the Princess’s office. A’dlena sat at her desk, looking as rumpled and worn as Rey, as if she too had experienced several sleepless nights. 

“Are you coming to tell me that you will reveal our secret?” she asked with a bitter laugh. “Ben always said you were too principled by half.”

“No, Your Highness. I’m here because I have a plan. And it involves you and Tam. One that I think, will win you both the happiness you crave.” Tam looked sharply at her as A’dlena gestured for her to continue. Rey licked her lips, chapped and sore. “You allow ascension via combat, yes?”

A’dlena nodded as if picking up the threads of Rey’s plan. “Yes, Mandalore allows that. But Ben is a good fighter.”

“What if there were rumors that Kylo Ren was in the plains near Hoth? And that we go for him? If Ben were to fight Kylo...and lose? Only for Tam to step in?” 

Tam swiftly grasped her proposal: “We’d need a body.” Rey slanted a smile up at him.

“I don’t think that’d be a problem. There’s plenty of First Order soldiers that can be passed off. We’d need to inform his parents, however. Otherwise the Queen might order a national search.”

A’dlena tapped a quill against her mouth, the feather brushing her fair skin. She tilted her head, exchanging a rapid glance with Tam, their eyes communicating furiously with one another. Rey looked at her feet encased in worn boots. She had once hoped that she and Ben could do that--could read reams of lives in each other’s gazes. But no matter now. That hope was lost. 

“What about a fire? There’s a small forest at the base of Hoth. It could...help.” Nodding, A’dlena invited Rey to sit for coffee and the three of them continued to plot until the details were smoothed out. It was full light then and Rey wondered where Ben was, if he had dressed alone without her there. If he noticed and if he cared. 

As Tam rose to begin to put the plan in motion, A’dlena asked Rey to stay. She fidgeted for a moment, pulling on the fraying edge of her tunic as the Princess regarded her.

“This is a thing of love you're doing,” she said. “For the both of us. Tam and I are grateful. And I suspect Ben will be one day too.” Rey bobbed her head and A’dlena released her to return to her duties. Rey hurried to catch up with Ben as he strode to his morning reports review. His gaze burned through her, as if she were truly a mere shadow. Grunting her thanks at a guard, she followed him into a room where he reviewed the latest intelligence.

As the reports neared their end, a door burst open. A runner, his smock mud stained, his hair rumpled, his face florid as if he had run for miles, burst in, paper clenched tightly in his fist. Rey held her breath and ordered herself to act natural. 

“Kylo Ren has been spotted in the foothills of Hoth!” 

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry the last ones have been late. I've been really busy. and I like to do a final read before I post. This is finalized. There's this chapter, one more, and then an epilogue.

The war party was quickly assembled. A’dlena offered to lead the troops, assured of her victory as she had defeated Pryde last month. Rey tucked all of her clothes into her bed roll and fastened it to her horse. She looked up at the castle--its jutting turrets, its gleaming marble, its deftly carved statues and floral fountains. She had barely time to discover all of its secrets and now she never would. Tam came up to her, ostensibly to speak about their protection detail, only to sneak a large bag of gold into her bag. 

“Take some food too,” he muttered before patting her horse’s flank and disappearing into the crowd. Rey mounted the chestnut mare and maneuvered her to stand near Ben. With a rallying cry, the men moved forward, Ben’s jaw jutting out, his face tight and closed. The war party was a small one, only a few platoons as Kylo Ren was sighted nearly on his own. Somewhere, stuffed in a wagon, was a First Order officer, muffled, put to sleep. Rey could almost feel sorry for his inevitable death if Tam hadn’t told her that this particular officer had been responsible for several egregious raids that had destroyed villages and left corpses of women and children to bury. 

They crossed the plains and made camp at night. They would arrive at the foothills of Hoth. Rey stood outside of Ben’s tent, listening to him and the general argue. As the last one left, she slipped in and held up a finger. His eyes flashed and narrowed. 

“What do you know about this?” he demanded. Rey glanced around her quickly and he threw out his hands. “We’re alone.” She shook her head and scurried forward, as close as she could get, inches separating them. This close to him, she could smell pine and mint and soap, soothing and clean, his face mottled with freckles, his skin as haggard as hers, flecked with mud from the ride. She didn’t stop herself from reaching up to wipe it away. He didn’t prevent her from doing so, exhaling heavily as her thumb scraped across the arch of his cheekbones. 

“I’m not supposed to tell you until tomorrow,” she whispered. Ben grabbed her hand and held it to his check, searching her face for some clue. She tried not to shutter herself away, tried to let him see. She heard him swallow before tipping his forehead next to hers. 

“What is this? A trap?”

“A path to freedom. Trust us.” He snorted at that, jerking away before settling on his bed, shoulders hunching. He looked small then, lost and unmoored. Rey hesitated before crossing over and sitting next to him, letting her side briefly brush his. 

“Neither of you are in a good place. No one is. This is, what we hope, a plan to make you all happy.” Ben jerked her head, the only acknowledgment she expected to get. She sat beside him for a few moments, watching his fingers tap his thighs, listening to the fire crackle in the brazier, the men shuffling outside as the camp settled in for the night. Finally she rose and started to the door until he grabbed her wrist. 

“Are you coming with me?” She blinked fast, sure he had figured out the contours of the plan on his own. She looked away, battling the tears that threatened. She did not want to cry anymore. It had become all too much.

“If you want me to.” His thumb traced a circle into the small of her wrist and she heard him sigh, sad and sweet, as if he could at last rest. 

“Good night.” He let go of her wrist, fingers trailing across her knuckles, rasping over her scabs, before falling onto the bed. Rey inhaled deeply, breath caught in her chest, before making her exit, unsure of what to do with the events that had just conspired. Did he want her with him? What did the tenderness mean? Was it a goodbye? Or a request for something more? Shaking her head to clear it, she gave instructions to the night guards before retiring for the evening. 

The next day’s ride was hard and fast, the horses covering ground quickly. Scouts were sent ahead to see if they could spot any sign of Kylo. They came back to report signs of a fire and an encampment and Rey dared not look at Tam, despite how impressed she was with him. They would release the officer tonight and the chase would begin. As the camp began to settle, parties out to scour for Kylo Ren, guards set up on rotation, Tam approached Rey.

“Are you ready? Is he ready?”

“When?”

“In an hour.” Rey nodded and hurried over to the kitchen cart. The cook was setting up the meal and her scavenger skills came in to play as she snatched off bread, cheese, dried meats and fruit. It wasn’t a lot but it would help them get by until they could settle somewhere. She finished packing her horse, tucking her wool cloak around her. The foothills were sparsely wooded, the floor littered with dead nettles, the trees a foreboding green. Even though twilight was an hour away, the forest was gloomy, fog threading through the gangly trunks. She checked Ben’s horse and went to find him, sharpening his sword.

“It’s time.” Ben rose. He had abandoned his royal uniform for all black, his scar a vivid splash of color in the darkness. He slipped out after her, heading to his horse at her direction as she informed someone that they had a lead on Kylo. They rode off in one direction, Tam and A’dlena in another. Rey and Ben were silent, eyes skirting the forest, focusing on every sound. They agreed to meet several miles from the camp and Rey easily found the scoured tree, the bark stripped, Tam’s signal. There was a cry. Someone had spotted Kylo Ren. 

“Who is posing as Kylo?’ 

“Tam,” she said softly, fingers flexing on her reins. “You two are of similar height and weight. It’s only until we get the fire going here.”

“Fire?” His brow quirked up and a quiet nickering stopped her from speaking. She turned to see A’dlena trotting toward them, the First Officer’s body draped over her horse. Rey hurried off hers and helped the Princess. His clothes were torn and she could tell his hair had been dyed. She did not remember him from Pryde’s camp and again she hoped she was making the right decision.

“He’s thoroughly out of it, Rey. He won’t feel a thing,” A’dlena reassured her. Ben moved behind her, his eyes shuttered, his hands folded in front of him. Rey nodded curtly, licking her lips as she placed a sword in the man’s hand. A’dlena pulled out a flask from her bags. Kerosene. Easily lit. They sprinkled it on the body and around him, Rey thoroughly splashing the tree trunks to ensure the blaze was started. She ordered Ben to take the horses off to the side, their whinnies pitching high at the pungent smell. A’dlena pulled out a striker and the woman paused. There was a shout and Rey turned to see Tam running toward them. He paused, his face red, breathing hard.

“I’ve lost them but they are close,” he said. Rey gave them both a tight smile as Tam rooted in A’dlena’s bag to throw on his tunic. He turned to Rey.

“Ok are you ready?” Her hand went to her sword and her spine prickled, her body vibrating as her breath grew hot. She did not particularly like this part of the plan. She looked down at her sword and back at him, throat clicking, pulse beating hard in her throat. 

“What’s this?” Ben demanded suddenly, coming up behind her. 

“Tam rescued me,” A’dlena said quickly, neatly stepping in front of Tam. “From Kylo. Because he saved me, I can choose to be with him. Unfortunately, Ben perished in the fire. We will honor you…”

“And I’ll be Ben Solo no more…” he trailed off, a distant look in his eyes. Rey shrugged, spreading her hands as the wind whistled through the trees, the trunks groaning. Firelight from torches gleamed in the distance. Time was whittling down. 

“You can be him again. The fire will be destructive. But we have to paint a convincing story,” she said as Ben let loose, fist flying into Tam’s face. The other man stumbled back, hand flying up to come away with blood. He laughed and beckoned Ben forward. Ben snatched the sword from Rey and began slashing at Tam. Rey gasped as the tip snagged on Tam’s tunic and tore. 

“What the--” she started but A’dlena restrained her, giving a quick shake of her head. 

“Leave them. Help destroy my gown.” Rey scooped up dirt and began to rub it on the Princess’s hands and face as A’dlena pulled at her hair, stray wild strands catching in the hair. They ripped her gown and slapped her horse on the rear flank, sending him off. Rey looked over her shoulder as Ben kicked Tam into the knee, sending him sprawling back into a tree. His face was closed and vicious but Rey recognized the pleasure flickering in the corner of his mouth. 

“Should we stop them?”

“I suspect Ben resents Tam for our relationship coming between you two.”

“Seems misplaced,” Rey muttered as she knelt and began slicing at the striker. One, two, sparks flew and landed on the soaked man. They caught quickly, threads of flame crawling over his body, dripping to the floor covered in dry nettles, crackling as they began to smolder. Rey scrambled back and shouted for Ben. 

“We need to go!” Ben shot Tam a hard look before shaking his hand and jogging toward them. Tam was battered, his clothes torn, blood coating his chin. A’dlena squeezed Rey’s arm. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “We’ll never forget you.” She dashed toward Tam who waved weakly in Rey’s direction. Shouts rang in the air and the men were coming. There was no time. Ben snatched her shoulder and drew her back as flames began to lick up the tree trunk, eating any evidence of their marks, branches crackling as the dry wood was food for the ravenous flames. He dragged her back until she turned and they raced toward the horses, mounting quickly and leaving the world behind. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you came here first, I am posting 11 and 12 today as I fell behind my posting schedule. 
> 
> This leaves only an epilogue for tomorrow.

Rey gestured for Ben to follow her. Tam had traced out the route they needed to talk, their horses galloping from the fire, as fast as they could go through the trees before picking their way up the mountain. The trees grew sparse and rocks began to jut out more. There was a cave several miles up, Tam had told her, and they should make rest there overnight. The fire was warm at their back and she glanced over her shoulder as the flames tore through the forest, any shouts swallowed by the crackling, tumbling trees.

She hoped their plan worked. That Tam and A’dlena would be free to love one another. She and Ben said little to each other as they made their way diagonal across the mountain. Tam had suggested cutting around, rather than going over the mountains, the passes sure to be snow covered and impassable. She found the cave easily enough--large and roomy enough for the horses. She spread out the blankets, Ben grunting his thanks, and she served some of what she stole. 

“Tam said to travel up the mountain a few more miles. Then there is a path that goes the long way around, down into Agamar. From there, there are several caravan routes into Naboo or Ajan Kloss. Places to lay low for a while.” 

“And how will we survive?” He was clipped, almost surly, eating mechanically. Rey explained that the Princess had provided funds and they had enough food and clothes to get by. Ben tilted his head and she could feel his eyes on her in the dark. It was too close to the other camp to make a fire but as it was night now, she imagined Ben would rest and she would take guard for a few others. She proffered the plan and he didn’t say anything. She watched him turn to face the moon, its pale silver light creeping into the cave. 

“Why do this, Rey?” She swallowed and ducked her head, playing with the food she seemed unable to eat. The bread was too dry, the cheese too cloying, the meat thick in her mouth. She rooted around for an answer but found none. She couldn’t explain it was because she loved him. The words felt too hard in her mouth. Unsuitable, especially for her. She had shown her lack of faith in him. He had all he needed to know about her. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” she finally admitted and he snorted. He turned to face her, his face thrown into shadows, a ghoulish mien, his eyes lost in the darkness. 

“You care about that?” He peered at her and she froze. “Ah, you do.” With that he shuffled under his blankets and rolled over, giving her his back. She stared at it for a minute, wondering what happened before she stood, moving to the edge of the cave, rolling her staff between her hands, occasionally looking down at her sleeping Prince. 

The next morning they continued their trek. They spoke little, only about the surroundings. They discovered a lodge near the path and Rey purchased a few more supplies before they led their horses across the face of the mountains. Icy breezes floated down from the snow capped mountains and sent her shivering inside her wool cloak. She ended up layering herself in all of her clothes, snow splattering along the trail, as they slowly but surely picked their way across the rocky path. 

They continued like this for two days like this until they came out of the mountains. She could see the shimmering heat below them, the desert feeding into the jungles. Her bones ached for it. Another day or so and they would be free. There had been no trace of pursuit and Rey offered her thanks that Mandalore had bought their ruse. T hey found an outcropping that night, the shear of the rocks protecting them from the worst of the wind. Ben built a fire and Rey huddled near it, allowing herself to peek around her cloak at him. Her teeth chattered as the temperature began to plunge even further and Ben sighed, crawling over a rock to sit next to her, wrapping his arms around her. 

“Why are you always so cold?”

“I’m not. I’m from a desert. Thin blood,” she managed to grit out between the shivers wracking her body. He ran his hands up and down her arms, his breath hot on her cheek. 

“You know Rey I never took you for a liar.” She jerked back to look up at him, his eyes twinkling with some sort of mirth. She frowned. What kind of joke was he playing?

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Yes you do. You didn’t plot this escape because you were unhappy. This was an entreaty for forgiveness. This was an act of love.” She tried not to react as he spoke, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his fingers trailing up her arms with gentle swoops. She swallowed thickly and looked down at the cheery little fire vainly trying to warm her toes. 

“And if it was?” He didn’t pause in his ministrations and she thought he didn’t hear her as his hair tickled her cheek, his nose gliding down toward her chin. She froze as his lips met the corner of her mouth, sweet and tender, forgiveness granted with generosity. She twisted toward him, his arms falling around her waist, his fingers re-relearning the notches of her spine, his mouth dipping to remember the valley of her collarbones. 

“Is this forgiveness?” she whispered into his hair as her fingers carded through the soft strands. He kissed the hollow in her throat, tugging at her tunic to drag his lips across her skin. 

"There's nothing to forgive," he said. She trembled, unsure if it were from the cold or from the sob that threatened to spill out and overcome her. She dug her nails into his scalp. She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to formulate anything approaching logic. 

“I love you, too,” he said, grasping her chin and bringing her down to him. It was soft and sweet and she grabbed his shoulders, sure this was a dream. Sure that the hands caressing her back, cradling her to him, was a fantasy concocted by a weary mind. He broke the kiss with a peck to her forehead and they snuggled together under the blankets as the wind whistled around them, gutting the fire, and plunging them into the dark, their heat cocooned in the blankets as they curved around each other. 

Rey awoke that morning, sweat sticking her small hairs to her neck. She blinked her eyes against the dazzling sun and wondered why she was so hot. There was a muffled noise at her shoulder and she glanced over to see Ben, his face smashed into her, his body half draped over her. It was real. It wasn’t the work of an overexerted mind. And it dawned on her then that this was the first time they had slept together. Their time together in the palace had been hurried. Rushed fumblings, clandestine meetings, too focused on wringing pleasure out of each other. Too little time for tenderness, for something as simple as waking up next to one another. Her hand lifted on its own volition and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and he grumped a greeting. 

“It is real,” he said, voice thick with sleep. Rey closed her eyes and took him in--sweat and horse and bristled jaw and sweet mint from the leaves he kept chewing. He groaned and pulled her closer. 

“We’re free now,” he whispered. “We can do whatever we want, Rey.” He peered up at her through the curtain of his hair. “What do you want to do first?”

Rey snorted and pressed her lips to his forehead. “Have some breakfast. And get the hell out of here.” But she snuggled in deeper, allowing her hands to trace his chest and his waist, feeling the steady drum of his heart against her fingers. Ben leaned forward, a simple thing, a kiss that had her toes curling and a moan unfurling. 

“As my lady commands.” 


	13. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming along for the ride!
> 
> And I hope you liked it @bluewanderlust.

The news of marriage between Princess A’dlena and Mandalore hero Tam Bridger reached the far edges of Devaron, to the cabin on the edges of a clearing. Ben brought the news in with him with the latest supplies he had purchased from the nearest town over. He unhitched his horse and carried in the food. Rey stood barefoot in the kitchen, covered in flour, hair flying around from her red face, frustration rolling off of her. He laughed and crossed the room to kiss her. 

“Still can’t manage bread, can you?” he whispered and she crossed her arms. 

“I was made for fighting, not for baking.”

“And I was made for ruling, not for farming, yet here we are,” he smoothed over as he pulled out a loaf of bread from the box he carried into the kitchen. Rey rolled her eyes, muttering how she’d get it yet. The few months had been a rocky path as they both learned to live together. They had stumbled upon this cabin, leaving behind any trace of Ben Solo and Rey Niima. They were just Ben and Rey, two young lovers, perhaps escaping unyielding parents. The next village indulged in their love story. They had spent the winter repairing the cabin, huddled in one room, as Ben and Rey learned to patch and to lash and to thatch a roof. The villagers brought leftover supplies, food, and whispers to Rey about how to keep a man happy. Ben had cracked jokes as he learned to properly join wood together, leaving a cabin that was snug and inviting. 

Now, as spring burbled outside their door, they had a neat, cozy home. Flowers sat in a cracked vase Rey had repaired. Food warmed on the stove and a broth splattered cookbook nestled on the counter. Their bed was shoved in the corner, one they tumbled into together, finding their happiness and relief in one another. 

It turned out that Rey did not need advice from the women how to keep a man happy. Her own curiosity had led her to discover that Ben was ticklish behind his knees, that his ears were particularly sensitive, that he always had a knot between his shoulder blades and would groan when she would rub it out with the heel of her palm. Her own curiosity guided her to learn how to roll her tongue around the tip of his cock. Her own curiosity taught her that if he came in after a hard day’s work to find her naked with bantha steak sizzling on the stove that the steak would be forgotten as he bent her over the table, fingers desperate as his hips found their own stuttering rhythm. 

She discovered that she enjoyed waking up next to him. That she wanted his kisses, even with staid morning breath. That she loved it when he poured boiling water into their salvaged copper tub and would help her in, his pupils fully blown black as he glided the sponge down her skin. 

Rey often learned that she ended up dirtier before she got in the tub, sweat soaked and dripping with his seed. She would sit outside with him and twine flowers into his hair, his quiet voice telling her what each braid meant in Alderaan. News reached them of Rose and Finn’s wedding and she hoped the gods would at least grant them the modicum of peace that she and Ben had found. 

But now Rey stared at the yeast refusing to rise as Ben came to wrap his arms around her, chin on her shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised, covering her hands with his. They kneaded and turned and covered the dough with flour. And, against all hope, an hour later, it had begun to rise. Rey dabbed at her eyes, looking out the window at Ben running the plow down the field, preparing for seeding later that week. His face was sweat sheened, golden in the afternoon light. She smiled and looked at the rising dough. They would figure it out. Together. 


End file.
